


Through the kaleidoscope

by Reyavie



Series: Of Jane Shepard [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Adventure, Drabble Collection, Friendship, General, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 124
Words: 26,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7407766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyavie/pseuds/Reyavie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Jane Shepard is and was. According to everyone else, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Speaks the father

**Author's Note:**

> 200 word drabbles through the eyes of those who met Shepard.

_**1)** William Shepard, father.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"She's not a pretty baby."

William Shepard knew his wife. Contradicting her was a bad idea, insulting her was worse. Roses always made her cave in and the way to apologize would include a dinner out after a free day. Telling her after twenty-three hours in labor that their brand new baby girl was ugly would require a week of vacation far from the colony. But the unnamed baby was. Wrinkly and thin, not a trace of hair on her head, silent like death after that first gulp of air. Nothing at all like her older brother had been.

So ugly, he thought. Until her eyes opened. Brown, almost black in the low illumination of the hospital room, instead of the dull grey which would eventually turn into blue. Brown, a dark tone not unlike the earth he worked every day. Such pretty eyes; so much more beautiful in that baby than they were on his own face, every day he stared at them in the mirror.

"What did you just say?"

He had forgotten all about his wife and the way the couch was about to become his permanent resting place.

"She's Jane," William corrected softly. "And she's beautiful."


	2. Says the Teacher

_**2)** Miss Lewis, Teacher.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Colony children were boisterous. Miss Lewis had learned soon that the only way to be heard was to speak louder, otherwise, fists and tears would do the talking. This was one of such episodes. The black haired girl stood in ashamed silence. Behind her sat the two boys she had slapped – punched, _bit_ – as well as a small Batarian.

"Momma said to look after the youngest. Not hurt them! They tried to hurt him!" Her little finger pointed at the boys and her voice was pure childish outrage.

 _Again_. Miss Lewis had been against the Batarian's presence. Children weren't accepting in the best of situation, never mind with such an unusual companion. "Nevertheless, Jane. They don't understand difference. And Matt is a bit…different. You can't solve this with your fists."

The girl raised her head, indignation shifting into confusion. If she was older, Jane would have said something like _what the hell_?

"He laughs and plays. He likes to build things with sand. Likes drawings. Like _me_. Am I different too?"

Matt smiled by her side – to Jane, not the teacher – and in that action laid the answer to Jane's question.

 _Yes_ , she was. And he was grateful for that.


	3. Comments the Mother

_**3)** Laura Shepard, mother.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

_Her kid was a menace. Puddle on the road? Jane would jump into it. Couple of kids up to no good? Jane was one of them. If her eldest had appeared in the house claiming to be a biotic, Laura would be surprised. When Jane lost it and smashed one of the neighbor's kids against a wall, the Shepard household had accepted it as obvious._

_There were moments in which she could be calm, however._

"Aren't you supposed to be doing your chores?"

Every day, Jane would come back from school and sit by their door. Their house was close enough to the spaceport for the girl to watch the ships leave, graceful, full of wonders to her eyes. Like the elders said: kids were born in the colonies, not for them. Jane – her little demon– raised her head and grinned.

"SSV Madrid's around."

The day before had been the Oporto, Jacarta, Athens... It didn't matter which ship would come, Jane would stare at it like it contained her whole future.

"Not my question. Chores."

_Laura hated each and every one. They showed how quickly Jane would fly away in the future. Like any mother, she didn't want it._


	4. Adds the Sister

_**4)** Marie Shepard, sister.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

It was the middle of the night. Marie tried to explain it ( _school? Why? Can't I stay in_?) but momma didn't wait, taking her from the bed and into the kitchen, not sparing a look at her as she opened one of the closets.

"Take care of the baby, Jane." Sis was inside, eyes wide and afraid – _a nightmare? Did you have a nightmare? –_ and her arms welcomed her soundlessly. Momma touched a finger to her lips. _Silent, it's just a game_.

"Love you, sweetheart."

It didn't feel like one. Games didn't make people cry. And Jane cried, muffling sobs with one hand as momma caressed her hair and, outside, fireworks rose in the air and _exploded_. Momma disappeared, the closet closed and they were left in darkness.

A louder firework rocked _everything_. It must have been amazing. Shame she couldn't see anything beyond sis's chest. When the closet shook, her arms had stopped holding her. Hands reached for the floor, arms stretched, the pretty wood of the closet held on by her back.

"Where's momma?"

Jane didn't smile; tears and sweat mixing against her skin. Marie could taste salt when it fell on her lips.

"Talking to God, kitten."


	5. Fears the Friend

_**5)** Matt, Batarian, friend.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"I was sick of being different, Jane."

Matt had seen hatred in human's faces but never in Jane's. Even after they grew up and went separate ways, Jane was still his friend. Asking about his family, hobbies, school projects. Never hatred until that moment.

That wasn't Jane but a Shepard. Short, smudged, bloodied, a baby in her arms – _her little sister, barely older than my brother_ – who sank boneless against the teenager's chest – _Was she dead? Please, let her not have died, please, please, please._ Around them laid remains of her home, burned to the ground until little remained. The same from which Jane had emerged once silence fell.

He had never wanted this. He wanted to be with his own people, to belong. That was okay, wasn't it? Wasn't it?

"Leave," Jane – Shepard – declared tonelessly. "Papa called for help. They will kill you."

Matt couldn't be sure if she wanted it. Only that he had no idea what she was thinking and that was frightening. Especially as she kept expressionless, so quiet and unlike her. He turned to leave, not even attempting a goodbye.

"You weren't different before. You are now."

 _Now, you are a murderer_ , his guilt completes.


	6. Helps the Soldier

_**6)** David Anderson, Alliance military.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Come closer and I'll shoot you."

The girl raised the weapon a little more in the air. It shook, she wasn't used to the weight, the gun or the fact that she was trying to shoot someone. Adding to that the inaccuracy of an Avenger, he wasn't worried over injuries on himself; the girl would likely shoot herself. He would have thought that if it weren't for the blood, staining the ground all around them.

"Look, I'm unarmed," he said softly, placing his own weapon to the side. Fear, she was a child still and deeply afraid. "Systems Alliance. We came to help."

He had seen the look on her face before. Fear and hope, someone pushed to the very edge of sanity; who kept running because if it stopped, it might break.

The gun lowered slightly.

"Did they leave?"

Not all; most were dead. But he nodded anyway.

The weapon lowered all the way before, slowly, reaching the floor. Her whole body began shaking as she knelt.

"I stopped crying," the girl said. Earnestly, like she really needed someone to believe her. "They didn't win."

"Yeah." He touched her hair; her coarse, dusty bloodied hair. "You did good, child."


	7. Teaches the Orphan

_**7)** Robert, orphanage friend.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

The girl washed her hands almost constantly. Didn't speak or played and even after spending the morning sitting while her sister ran around, she would always scrub her hands raw once inside. Like she was sick. In fact, everyone thought so, avoiding the new brat like the plague.

Robert? He was _curious_.

"Did you do something bad?"

The scrubbing stopped and he knew her attention was his. She might be wondering why this question. But people punished themselves when they did bad things – like his mom and drinking; his dad, not showing up for days at a time. People punished themselves all the time. That and whoever was close enough, he had learned.

"Yes."

Progress.

"Did you want to do it?" He pressed.

The girl hesitated, chewing her lower lip carefully.

"I guess."

"Did you _need_ to?"

"Yes."

"Then if it was needed, you couldn't have said no. If so, then you should accept it's over and done with."

Surprise followed, of his words or him speaking, it could be either.

"… why are you saying this?"

Robert shrugged.

"Not the first lost kid around here." He had been one, after all. "Introduce me to your sis? She looks lonely."


	8. Steals the Stranger

_**8)** Fay, adoptive mother of Marie Shepard.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Take care of her." It was never easy to separate families and it wasn't like she or her husband wished it. It was simply impossible for them to support two children.

Fay nodded, eyes drifting towards the girl on the teenager's arms.

"She will be safe with us." A little sardonic smile appeared on Jane's face. Of course. Someone who had been through what they had been wouldn't believe in the concept. "We will love her as if she was our own. You don't need to worry."

The girl's eyes hardened, embrace tightening around Marie. In her action, Fay could almost hear the implied _she is not yours_. She would be though.

"I'm not doing this because I want to." The words were spat out, violence in every sound. "I'm doing this because it's best for Marie. Because they say I can't keep her. And running away would harm her."

Without looking at the couple, Jane kissed her sister, whispered words Fay couldn't understand, made promises with solely her expression. Then turned away, purposely avoiding looking back.

"Will you be okay?"

Jane stopped for a moment.

"Don't pretend. If you cared, you'd also take me."

Fay felt like a monster.


	9. Accepts the Clerk

_**9)** John, Clerk of the Alliance Recruitment Center.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Accepting or rejecting applications for the military wasn't a glorious job. Most came in search for adventure, wishing for fortune and glory. His job was to filter between the bland and ridiculous replies those who could actually be used.

When Jane Shepard stopped at his desk, he did his usual evaluation. Short but strong, a farm kid, likely not much brains in that empty head.

"Why do you want to enter the Alliance military?"

The clerk was granted a smile.

"Because I'm an orphan, I'm homeless, I'm a kid and I have nowhere to go," she recited bluntly. "Shouldn't you worry less about why I want to enter and more about what I can do once I enter? I thought the Alliance would be more practical than making us go through these stupid tests."

How old was this brat again? She sounded disrespectful, immature but rational. Who else fought better than someone with nothing to lose?

Without thinking, he gripped the device which would enter her biometric data and added an accepted in the file. In his confusion, he barely heard the ' _hey, Robert! Come to this line, this man looks logical'_ she hollered to the rest of the candidates.


	10. Despairs the Instructor

_**10)** Levi, Biotic instructor, Alliance military.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Tell me again, trainee. What exactly did I tell you to practice this morning?"

The instructor was given a wide round of blank stares and a confused one. The Shepard kid stood in the middle of the circle of fallen students, her eyes open and focused on her hand like it had become one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

"Singularity," she replied slowly.

Singularity was a compression of dark matter, the equivalent to a minor black hole in layman's terms. It attracted foreign objects into a center by means of a strong gravitational pull. It didn't expel them to every corner of a room with strength enough to damage walls.

"So you decided you should do a Nova instead of the assignment?"

"…what I did has a name?"

"Yes," the older man clarified easily, gifting her with a rather sarcastic smile. "When done on purpose, it is a Nova. When by complete accident and the result of attempting the opposite phenomenon, we go with disaster."

This was one kid to send directly into Vanguard training. Before she tried something more destructive like, say, Warp and ended up destroying half the gym on his watch.

God, he hated kids.


	11. Judges the Sergeant

_**11)** Sergeant Dorian, Luna Base Training Center.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"First timer?"

The girl blinked, raising her eyes from her lap. She had been staring at it ever since entering the shuttle. It was a normal reaction, common for new trainees. The idea of being sent into the field with barely six months of training made them freeze. Shame for them, really. Anyone with half a brain would understand it was nothing more than a test. Survive a paltry physical exercise without wetting yourself and you might manage to do something in the military.

"First time on the field," he pressed, trying to break through her apathy. Her gaze was confused, like she wasn't able to grasp his meaning. Fear, of course. This one would be out by the end of the week.

"It's not my first time."

There was something in those words, something dark and bloody, like his dreams after Shanxi. Behind her lethargic eyes and toneless voice. The girl smiled a little; a little older, less of a kid and more of someone who would live inside an armor.

"I'm fine." Her hand rested on her lap. They were shaking.

… liar. And a bad liar, at that. This one wouldn't make it.

Soft-hearted ones never did.


	12. Requests the Sibling

_**12)** Marie Shepard, sister.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

The thing with adoptive parents was that some (her own) believed they needed to give their child everything so it would feel like theirs. They didn't but Marie saw no reason to tell them otherwise. With Jane, things didn't work like that. Her sister gave what little she could – orphan, trainee with little time – and no amount of temper tantrums would change it.

More time with her, was that too much to ask? Jane said it was. That her vacations were numbered and short before she was appointed anywhere. Crying had done nothing. Neither had shouting, complaining or whining.

"Done, kitten?"

Jane was smiling down at her – _still too short, damnit!_ – and it was a familiar smile, one she loved beyond everything. It reminded her of her dark haired mother, strong armed father, a brother who carried her everywhere; a farm, dusty plains and the twinkling of water as soundtrack for miles and miles.

Marie extended her arms, wordlessly requesting, and Jane's closed around her. Her laughter regained that warm quality Marie treasured while losing that sad quality born of powerlessness.

Silently – selfishly – the younger girl asked for the elder to take her with her.

Aloud, ice-cream was requested instead.


	13. Needs the Colleague

_**13)** Robert Dover, Private of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy, 1st Division.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Good thing about marine training was the camaraderie. Most would always have your back. Bar fights, getting out to drink, get in before the sergeant appeared somewhere around 4 am to inform them they were all useless amounts of maggoty flesh. Jane went farther than the rest where it came to him.

Screwing anyone on her bed wasn't included.

"Get out." Jane's foot collided with the girl by his side, complete with a glare as she got up, scrambled for something to dress and ran. Robert didn't bother. Warm bed. Only underwear. Not leaving. "Damnit, didn't I tell you to stop this? You have a bed."

"And Johnson sleeping above me. He watches." Side effect of camaraderie he didn't like. "You know… if we dated, your objection would be null. It'd be you in your bed."

She paused. Then scoffed. "You'd do someone else on my back. And I'd shoot you."

"I wouldn't do that."

God, she was an idiot _._ How blunt he'd have to be to show he was serious? She just had to date _him_. No more other women.

"Tigers can't change their spots," she said simply. "Move over. I need some sleep."

He needed a cold shower.


	14. Interferes the Watcher

_**14)** Mr. Hoffman, World History Instructor  & 1st division platoon.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Jane always avoided conversations related to home. They didn't know why. And, when it came down to it, there wasn't a lot to gossip about except everyone else's lives.

"You're from Mindoir, aren't you, Shepard?"

Her pen dug against the paper.

"Been there as a kid," another continued. "Place's kinda cool. Relaxed."

"Going there on break, Shepard? Visit the family?"

Robert kicked a chair, sending one of the privates to the floor, but the damage was done. They had Shepard's attention. And they had never seen her like that, furiously defensive, narrowed eyes and closed fists.

"I am never setting a foot in that place. Not until I die and my body gets dragged there because some asshole thinks I would wish for it."

Enough was enough.

"Shepard. You're in a class. Settle down before you spend the night running circles in the track."

She glared, moody and irritated but shut up. Following an impulse, he approached her table, feeling the need to smooth things.

"They wouldn't prod if you told them what happened."

She didn't raise her head.

"No offence, sergeant," the woman snarled. "But if you can share your issues like they're nothing, I feel sorry for you."


	15. Mocks the Companion

_**15)** Robert Dover, Private of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy, 1st Division.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Her face was contorted in anguish without name, pale as milk and twice as sickly. Jane looked ready to pass out, one hand scratching the wall which gave her support.

"There must be something you can do!"

In her profession, she had heard these same words thousands of times. Always with the same despair, with the same wish for her to make a miracle. But sometimes, not even the strongest of pleads could change the present. It just wasn't possible.

"We have tried everything."

"But…"

She honestly felt sorry for the girl. Bad things happened to everyone. Still, she couldn't be involved, she couldn't feel for everyone.

"I'm really sorry, there's really no hope."

"But, please!"

Time to end this.

"No, Shepard." She raised her voice, cutting the private's before it could continue. "I can't do anything. You're failing math. Come back next year."

Silence finally fell, barely broken as the biotic lowered her head and left through the half-open door. Conversation resumed on the outside.

"Relax, Jane. It's not like someone died or anything."

"You say can that because you passed!"

"I'm incredibly smart. On the way to Engineer, remember? You're basically a human hammer."

"I hate you, Robert."


	16. Shows the Alien

**_16)_ ** _Hermia Jassar, Asari Adept._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Humans classified biotics as freaks of nature. It was expected. Unlike council races, humans were new to the galaxy; children, as ignorant as an Asari of forty. They couldn't see beauty in the unknown. It was why the blue alien sat apart and avoided those around, crossed legs and hands cupped in front of her. Her energy flowed in front of her like a star suddenly dropped to earth. Her watcher, however, had thought her unaware.

"You're staring."

Like a child caught up to mischief, the human stared down instead of facing lavender eyes.

"Sorry. It's just that. What you were doing."

"It is a simple biotic routine."

The human grimaced before rising one hand. A small ball appeared between her fingers, little rays dancing around her skin. It didn't stop growing as hers had; it kept expanding until the girl closed her fingers forcefully, energy exploding like a dying sun.

She couldn't do it. No control or subtlety, different, _unknown_.

"There is as much valor in a hammer as there is in a fine blade, _girl,"_ she commented brusquely. "Care not for lack of beauty as long as you can protect it."

The human smiled, childish and pure.

Beautiful.


	17. Panics the Manager

**_17)_ ** _António Costa, Hotel manager, Elysium._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Working in Elysium wasn't bad. It was like living constantly in a vacation resort, complete with amazing scenery, good infrastructures and a constant flow of tourists and their loaded wallets. It was a decent place to own a hotel. In good days, cash and pleasant customers flowed in in equal measure. In bad days, things like this happened.

God help him, this group was composed solely by military.

The manager tried closing his mouth, not look as horrified. By the woman's expression – amused, the bitch was definitely _amused_ –, he hadn't quite managed it and his thoughts were clear for her, at least, to see.

They would destroy the hotel. Everything, top to bottom. That was what military men did when not fighting in wars. They found other things to fight: furniture, bell boys, walls and every idiot who wished to test its resistance to damage with repeated punches.

"I'll keep them away from the whiskey," Shepard informed simply, apparently trying to calm him down.

Which meant he only had to hide the other ninety-nine percent of his alcohol supply?

He charged them all extra, just in case. Preemptive strike, so to speak.

They noticed. And then broke his bar.


	18. Cowards the Cohort

**_18)_ ** _Edward Evans, Soldier,_ _Private of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy, 1st Division_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Sirens had replaced the music; a shrill sound underlined by parting shots of faraway assault rifles. They were soldiers, they had no other response. Between the first thought and that moment, they had scrambled for weapons neither felt safe without.

The soldier led his comrades through the destroyed roads, searching for attackers. Two steps behind him was Shepard, both covering the rest of the group; engineers whose greater danger was a bullet too quick for their frailer protection.

That had been the plan. But this was no training.

A flash of biotic energy bypassed him, announcing Shepard's departure. It was fast, unexpected, something he had barely seen even though the woman did prefer close combat. In this situation, it meant danger. He yelled at his companions to stay put before running after her, anxiously silent as a shotgun shot resounded through the air.

Edward found her behind a ruined wall. One foot was pushing a body – a Batarian – against the floor, both hands holding the smoking shotgun as her skin danced with light.

"Shepard?"

The Vanguard spat on the body's face; expression as dark and enigmatic as midnight, violent as a wounded animal.

"What?"

He had no courage to ask.


	19. Fades the Engineer

**_19)_ ** _Philip Crawford , Engineer,_ _Sergeant of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy, 1st Division._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Red. He saw nothing more than red. Red skin, blots of red on red armor, red on his eyes which searched for his friends. They weren't there, Philip knew, they had been separated in the confusion. He was tired though, in pain and wishing for help. So he searched, as his sole companion pushed him near and continued shooting somewhere above.

"Please, God. Please." Shepard was weak, all of them were. And strong, just like them, just like him. He should have been the one protecting, not her. Shepard had this suicidal streak, too eager to jump into the fray without thinking. He was calmer, a steadier mind. _But so tired_. Sleep took over, long languid waves forcing his eyes closed. It was no longer cold. Her hand was warm on his shoulder, fingers digging and shrill voice repeating _please_ and _wake up;_ a soothing mantra which overtook any fear.

"Philip, you damned asshole, don't you dare go anywhere!"

She was screaming now. The tone, it sounded even more like a plea than the words she spoke. Poor kid, he wished he could help. He truly did. _Tired, so damned tired_.

Around them, Elysium dissolved to the ground.

He slept.


	20. Assists the Woman

**_20)_ ** _Thelma Smith, grocery store owner_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Bullets, constant screams, continually overheating weapons. The woman had managed to find several, all resting against her feet. Each rifle was shot until skin burned from contact, then cast aside and replaced by another. Repeat. Breathe, shoot, breathe, shoot; it was almost a melody. Thelma tried looking past the barricade where the woman was making her stand, and saw a bridge, covered with bodies as bullets continued to rain.

The woman was alone. The woman kept fighting.

And no else attempted to help. It was their home! Thelma had never raised a weapon in her entire life but it couldn't be that hard. The woman made it look simple. Take hold, aim, shoot, rinse and repeat and the bodies fell like leaves in autumn.

They were afraid though. They were weaklings, cowering behind that woman because she didn't think, didn't feel, she just acted and, all around her, bodies littered the floor like offerings to some unnamed god.

Ringing announced overheating. Thelma saw the woman's scared look as she fumbled for another rifle and found nothing.

"Thelma!"

She didn't look at her husband. Her eyes were on the barricade as she ran, on every weapon to collect for their protector.


	21. Welcomes the Brother

_**21)** _ _Robert Dover, Private of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy, 1st Division._

xxxXXXxxx

Hero was an interesting title. It was surprisingly wished by cowards and amazingly hated by those who deserved it.

"Come here." Jane didn't hesitate. Her arms wound up around his neck, head against his shoulder as she sank boneless against his body. There was an exhaustion different than physical constricting her movements and no one noticed. They called her hero but what of the cost? To stand against hundreds meant she had killed hundreds. Blood of hundreds. And she might hate those who took these actions – she did, he couldn't forget her expression every time Mindoir barged into a conversation – but blood was blood. Stains were stains. Soldiers would always be stained and good soldiers would eventually drown in it.

Robert didn't ask the stupid question. She wasn't okay.

"What do you want to do?"

Jane didn't bother with a smile. It would not fool him. "Not think. I don't want to think."

"Sleep?"

"Dreaming."

"Drinking?"

"Biotic, bad reactions and worse hangovers."

"Are you being deliberately stubborn?"

"Yes. It's distracting."

"You basically want me to keep you awake and not sleep?"

"Yes?"

"...you're paying the gallons of coffee I'll require for this."

His arms remained around her as they sat.


	22. Trusts the Captain

**_22)_ ** _David Anderson, Captain of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"You recommended me to the N7 program. Why?"

She had come a long way. Not just as a soldier or person, not because the kid he had known had been left behind but because this woman had grown strong and stronger since those first days. It was a matter of pride for him. Even if, in that moment, Jane was a mix of annoyance and anger.

"You're a biotic and a strong soldier. Why shouldn't I?"

Her eyebrow twitched; any other would have received a request not to insult her intelligence.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

He nodded.

"Cut the bullshit, Anderson. I'm not a kid."

That was enough to drag a smile out of him. David raised his eyes from the datapad, favoring her with a long look. Warm, even.

"I've seen you at your worst, lieutenant." _Bloodied, shredded, fighting._ "And seen you at your best." _Strong, joyful, laughing._ "In all those moments, there was one thing that never changed in you."

Jane kept silent, waiting for the end of the argument.

"You're a survivor," he told her kindly. "And good survivors become the best soldiers. Turn into one and come back here. You'll have a place by me."


	23. Reads the Mercenary

**_23)_ ** _Zaeed Massani, mercenary.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

N7 were elite. They were brought up to make the hard decisions, exactly why they were trained by people like him. Killers without ideals.

"Never laugh while you fight," he instructed brusquely. "I don't care how many you kill. The second I discover you treat enemies like fucking training, I will kick you out so fast you won't have time to stop giggling."

There was no defense from her. The thing about any who reached that position was how obeying was had become natural. But they were also people who despised what he was. Shepard might seem dutiful on the outside and still hold no wish to obey him.

"Yes, sir."

"Massani. And the whole killing for revenge thing you got going?" He saw the glint of surprise in her eyes. Probably no one bothered to touch the subject afraid to hurt the brat's feelings. "It's stops now. You kill because you gotta kill."

"Screw you, asshole." Her voice didn't rise above a whisper. "You don't know me."

Yes, he did. He saw her in the mirror.

"Lesson three, not fucking military. Grow a spine and drop the sir."

Her lips twisted into a greasy smile. "Yes, sir."

Little bitch.


	24. Interviews the Reporter

**_24)_ ** _Kyle Stone, Alliance News Network reporter.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"And that concludes our interview with Lieutenant Shepard, the youngest soldier ever to receive the Star of Terra."

As soon as those words were said, the officer deflated. Shepard had gone through the entire event straight and nervous; almost as if she was afraid the world would crack if she said a wrong word or smiled in the worst moment.

"You know," the reported started. "You could have relaxed. This was for a small show."

"Oh no." Her head shook quickly. "I don't do that."

"What? Relax?"

That would give a new definition to uptight soldier.

"Relax during an interview." His confusion was obviously on his expression since Shepard started to elaborate. "First time they made me meet a quarian, they explained how the suit worked and requested that I would be allowed to make one question. Most people would wonder about how it is to live in the Flotilla. Wonder about the Geth and their history?"

"And?"

"I asked 'How the hell do you scratch under that thing?'"

Silence.

"That was mostly their reaction too," Shepard sighed, resting her chin against one hand. "I think the Admiral will shoot any ship I'm in on sight next time we meet."


	25. Listens the Younger

**_25)_ ** _Marie Shepard, middle-school student.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

A secret mission, she knew nothing else. Only that it had been serious and that was enough to horrify her.

Her sister was this amazing figure in her mind. Stronger, invincible and unreachable. Not this wounded person, covered in bandages over her left side, almost top to bottom. God, it hurt to watch.

"Marie?" Jane was probably wondering who had told her about her injury. "Learned something today. Avoiding sharp objects? Very good idea."

 _Don't make jokes,_ Marie wanted to say, _this isn't funny and I'm not a child._

It remained unsaid. Years had passed and the younger Shepard couldn't make herself accept her sister's life as a soldier. It was dangerous, frightening. And Jane would always downplay it for her.

"To be safe," her sister started, reading Marie's worry in her silence. "Your body wants it. That is instinct. That's survival and I'm rather good at it. But I'm not that good at living just yet." She paused and her smile was amused. Even with the traces of blood and pain. "Stop worrying. I'm going nowhere before I figure that out."

Marie glared as if her gaze was a punishment in itself. "You're an idiot."

"Yeah, already been informed."


	26. Shakes the Platoon

**_26)_ ** _Fifteenth platoon, infantry, Alliance marines.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"This wasn't planned! What part of _training_ didn't they get?"

Said training had been normal until that point: follow these two to a specific destination. How _that_ plan had ended up t _his_ botched up, it was anyone's guess.

"Yeah," the woman commented while unloading her shotgun on some poor bastard. "Eclipse should totally let you know where their secret bases are before we slap on them by complete accident."

"No one likes a wiseass, Shepard."

If she was violent, that word couldn't be used to describe her companion. He took the words crazy bastard to a whole new level. The guy he was currently introducing a battered old assault rifle to would certainly agree. If he had the other half of his chest.

"Aye aye, sir."

"Fucking damnit, will you quit that?"

Shot.

"Will you make it an order, sir?"

Head was destroyed.

"Cover the left."

Blood splattered the floor like a science project.

"Thought so. Hey, what are you doi— Are you throwing grenades with C4?"

 _Oh. Dear. God_. That particular thought was lost in the midst of an explosion which rocked the building to the ground.

Suffice to say, none of the soldiers following them would ever do so again.


	27. Outdrinks the Pilot

**_27)_ ** _Jeff Moreau, Flight lieutenant.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Nice to meet you. Those had been the first words they had exchanged. As they were both drunk, further conversation was complicated.

"Where's this ship of yours?"

He blamed his use of 'want to drive my state-of-the-art ship?' on the alcohol.

"Right over there."

Like a father with his new baby, Jeff waved towards the beautiful ship, resting carelessly against the Citadel's dock. He half expected her to be amazed – he surely had been. The woman just blinked.

"The Normandy? That's it? Oy. Are you trying to pick me up with my own ship? What kind of dumb move is that?"

For the first time, Jeff felt like he should have asked for her name.

The thing about alcohol (or in his case!) was that it slowed patterns of thought. Which meant things were hunky-dory and nothing was wrong with how the chick he had brought over entered the Normandy with an 'Ahoy, Matey' to the VI (seriously, what was wrong with the woman?) and tripped over the first consoles.

"By the way. We'll talk tomorrow about your use of the Normandy as pick-up-line."

Part of him was amazed she forgot how to walk but remembered him being an idiot.


	28. Declares the Commander

**_28)_ ** _Jane Shepard, Lieutenant-Commander.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

I placed my hands on the window shield. There was no wind in a ship, no mud or dust; the metal underneath my skin felt cool and impersonal. Everything was so clean, even the light and the painting of stars outside the glass.

Funny. I couldn't remember the last time I actually stopped. I was always moving. Ever since Mindoir, since the orphanage, the training centers, Elysium. If I kept moving, I wouldn't wake up with Marie in my arms and the roof against my back. I would be safe. I wouldn't be caught. But now I was in a ship with no place to flee to anymore. I wondered if Anderson knew this – as he knew everything else about me. If he thought I needed it.

_Hey, mom? They say we come from dust but they are wrong. We come from the stars and stars we become._

I was in a ship, four metal walls and a uniform which felt like home over my skin.

_What do you think of this, momma? Too much? Too weird? Too right?_

Stars couldn't reply. Still, I could swear I knew what she would say.

_Why don't you try it instead of moping?_


	29. Bribes the Doctor

**_29)_ ** _Karin Chakwas, SSV Normandy doctor.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

The second-in-command looked nothing like a seasoned warrior. Karin knew she was – the N7 on her armor made it clear – but biotics aside, she wasn't that tall, scarred or impressive. N7s were forged through fire, broken and rebuilt countless times. Not even the scar, running from her forehead, down her left cheek before hiding in her uniform gave that impression.

Still, this was obligatory. Shepard sat in front of her, slouching slightly as no superior was in sight, and answered the psychological evaluation with steady and perfect replies. Fake too.

Karin stared at the results and then at the girl's face, impassive and pleasant.

"Done, Doctor?"

Of course, she couldn't prove it.

"Indeed," Karin stated calmly, shutting down the camera. "No. You need to redo this, reply truthfully and allow me to help you. If you do, I will keep this perfect test on record and teach you how to fail the right questions as to avoid suspicions."

Shepard blinked, finally surprised. She hadn't been bribed by doctors before, apparently, or dealt with the amount of soldiers the doctor had through the years. Silence was as good as assent.

"Let us get something to drink, shall we?"

The girl followed.


	30. Stumbles the Private

_**30)** _ _Richard L. Jenkins, Private of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The hero of the Blitz. She was there and she was his Commanding Officer. Jenkins was no deluded boy, no naïve private to believe her to be more than an incredibly capable soldier but that didn't mean he couldn't be amazed by what she had done! Over a thousand Batarians! It didn't matter that she looked his age or how short she was in comparison. That only meant she was good at what she did.

"Commander? How did it feel like?"

Until that point, Shepard had been kind in response to his eager inquires. That all changed with his last question, her smile morphing and fading until there was something much more dangerous in the Commander's place. And when he thought she wouldn't reply at all and that he had trampled all over that fine line anyone older would tell him not to cross – the one he read in Presley's expression, who looked ready to hit him over the head – her lips opened.

"Like sleepwalking with a rifle on your hands, Private." Her smile, pleasant and polite and the glint of a knife before falling. "Never try it."

The event was later summed up nicely by Alenko's 'God, you _dumbass_.'


	31. Meets the Lieutenant

**_31)_ ** _Kaidan Alenko, Lieutenant, Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

There was no poetry in how Kaidan saw people.

He was an analytical man and his mind worked with cold facts, black on a white canvas. Except when dealing with biotics; there, feeling was all that mattered. Asari, for example, were running water under his skin. Turians would always be sharp as spears and Krogan were a straight punch to the gut. A biotic could learn a lot by paying attention.

"Can you help? Please? Before I give up and find a hammer."

Kaidan turned the omni-tool in his hands, trying to figure out the issue. Jane seemed ready to bash it against the table and be done with it.

Biotics were all about feeling; the barest touch could speak. And her skin against his as he prodded the tool said more than anything she could have uttered. She didn't feel like water or sand, she wasn't even a weapon. All he felt was harsh, rugged and uneven like an old castle wall.

"I swear you need a college degree to understand these things."

There was nothing beautiful or poetic about it. There was nothing false or impractical either. It was simply what she was.

The lieutenant felt strangely reassured.


	32. Harasses the Turian

**_32)_ ** _Nihlus Kryik, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"That's incredibly annoying."

The woman kept reading over his shoulder. Nihlus had been told humans lacked boundaries and he had already been inclined to believe. He didn't need proof.

"That book's sold out in five systems around Sol. I thought I'd have to wait until the Citadel."

The turian gave her a look. She would _still_ have to wait because there was no way he'd go along with this absurdity. She was leaning on his _fringe._ And why? Because of a book? He was the Specter, the blot in the human crew who stared like he would attack once their backs were turned. This woman was crossing a line for a book? Bullshit.

"…this _really_ about a book?"

She hesitated as if she didn't understand. "Why else …?"

Or perhaps the woman was that childish and annoying. Her small hand, too many fingers coated in fragile beige skin, came closer to turn the page.

In his confusion, he allowed it.

_**xxxXXXxxx** _

_Anderson knew Shepard for a long time and was used to her idiosyncrasies. Which is why he didn't blink when her first reaction to Nilhus was 'opinions on the tenth chapter?'_

_He saved his surprise for when the turian replied._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my defense, I never said Jane wasn't weird.


	33. Follows the Leader

**_33)_ ** _David Anderson, Captain, Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Captain." Shepard stood by his side, refusing to move before he spoke. Eden Prime and the Specter could wait. To her, Alliance came first just as her Captain came first. She would follow whatever _he_ said – no other – and her trust had no limits.

Her life felt like physical weight on his hands.

It wasn't new. It was the feeling before every dangerous decision, the one which accompanied every storm, every calm before it and every break afterwards. No officer David knew cherished that sensation – the idea of sending soldiers to their deaths. It wasn't new and it wasn't different when placing Jane's life on the balance. He had killed countless friends already. God forbid, she would be just one more count in his vast tally.

"In and out, Shepard," he declared simply. "No crazy stunts."

Yet, he trusted her to do her job and return, Nilhus' esteem earned and a place where he was once supposed to be. He trusted her to, come tomorrow, be right where she was now, beside him and waiting.

His trust was likely as heavy a burden as hers in him.

"Good hunt, Commander."

Without looking, Anderson knew her to be smiling.

"Always, Captain."


	34. Finds the Smuggler

**_34)_ ** _Cole Smith, Farmer and smuggler._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"T-They are. Dear god, they're..." Jena couldn't finish the thought and Cole couldn't blame her. "They are being _corrupted_."

He wouldn't have used those words though they did apply. The spikes crossed their friends' bodies like repulsive foothills, red blood coloring skin before transforming into putrid purple. Against Jena's wish, Cole had already locked the trailer. No one would enter, no one would leave. The others should have known better and hid like they had. It wasn't his fault that they would die. It was theirs, they didn't do better.

His horror had no words when the door opened without warning.

"They didn't run because of black market goods?" A male voice commented. "That's a special type of idiocy."

That was his home and he had tried. That was his home and he was weak. Hiding was all he had been able to do, helplessness making itself feel like few times before. But you didn't confess to fear and powerlessness. You just didn't.

The leader stared at him, long and non-judgmental, yet kept quiet – at least, until her companions started down the hill. Only then, she stuck her head back in.

"No shame about it. Next time, remember a rifle."


	35. Dreams the Human

**_35)_ ** _Jane Shepard, Commander of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

_There was light. There was darkness. There were screams, someone was screaming, everyone was screaming and her skin felt like it was ripping underneath God's fingers. There was fire, consuming everything around her, buildings, cities, worlds and their voices pierced through the explosions and split her mind apart. There was fear, hers and theirs, and she was the mother holding the child and she was the child, the father, the grandfather, the parentless and forgotten at the corner. She was all and none of them and felt everything. Smoke filled her body, blood flowed from her flesh and the one she held._

_They arrived and her cry rose with a thousand others._

"Commander!" Someone held her down, trapping her in the bed she didn't know to occupy, and when Jane opened her eyes, the one who met her was the Doctor. She looked scared. Of her, her actions or some sort of premonition?

"Are you alright?"

Her voice was kind, like her mother's was after a particularly hard nightmare. Nevertheless, the Jane who would have confided in her had learned how much better it was to shoot whatever frightened her.

"I'm fine, Doctor."

After all, Jane had always liked puzzles.


	36. Mourns the Chief

**_36)_ ** _Ashley Williams, Gunnery Chief, 2nd Frontier Division_

**xxxXXXxxx**

During battle, there was no time to mourn. It wasn't a conscious choice; there was simply no time. Once outside, mourning was eventually interrupted by those who thought them to be broken and could use a friendly shoulder. Ashley was a good soldier; no way would she whine to anyone, especially her new XO.

"I don't want to talk."

Jane said nothing, simply continuing to clean her shotgun. No words or platitudes were offered, no comfort for her loss. Which was actually good, Ashley supposed, the soldier was sure to blow up and destroy any chance for a promotion if she had. It was also annoying. Didn't she care about those losses?

"Why are you quiet?"

Fine, she was conflicted over the subject. Sue her.

"Excuse me?"

"You didn't insist."

The Commander stared at her like she was insane, cementing the childishness of her arguments.

"Of course I didn't. I'd have punched anyone who insisted if I was in your shoes," the brunette scoffed. "I'm not masochistic."

That sole sentence, it oddly showed that Jane understood what she was feeling. And understanding was far better than platitudes any time of the day.

Ashley returned to silence and their methodical task.


	37. Conspires the Navigator

**_37)_ ** _Charles Pressly, Navigation Officer of the SSV Normandy, Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Anderson's dead worried."

"We _are_ returning from the shakedown cruise without a Specter and a colony destroyed."

"Political backlash?"

"Downright shitstorm, Commander."

The two officers didn't look at each other. Instead, their whole attention was on Anderson – fair, understanding, strict as few Anderson. Pressly admired the man, how couldn't he?

"I can take the blame." It sounded bluntly nonchalant coming from her lips. "I was the one commanding the recon team, who else would be more believable when saying 'I screwed up'?"

Shepard didn't admire him. She was loyal, loyal in a way for which the older man had no explanation for.

"You do know that, without a credible eyewitness, he'll just contradict you?"

"That's why I have you, officer."

Sensing something was off, Anderson stopped pacing and turned to them, eyes moving from older man to younger woman.

"What are you two conspiring about?"

"I'm no child to conspire," Presley added calmly.

"Not smart enough to conspire." Shepard shrugged, legs swinging lightly.

No gazes were exchanged, no extra words, no comments about their half-baked plan. It wasn't needed when understanding was already established. Who else would guard the caretaker, after all?

Behind Anderon's back, Navigator and Commander shook hands.


	38. Complains the Warrior

**_38)_ ** _Ashley Williams, Gunnery Chief of the SSV Normandy, Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The Citadel transpired magic with every building, every alley and light. Of them all, the Commander seemed the most into it. There was something incredibly childish about the way the woman kept staring at the city, sitting on the precarious balcony.

"Weren't we supposed to report to the Council immediately?"

Ashley wasn't into it.

"According to Marie," the Commander commented. "I'm also supposed to send her a gift from every place I set foot in _. Ahah_."

The Chief didn't bother to ask who she was talking about. Instead, she remained behind the other as only an annoyed mother would. Shepard allowed it for a total of ten minutes before losing her patience.

"Look, chief. I'm pretty sure I'm not that much older than you but lemme share something. This view?" She opened her arms wide as if trying to hug the Presidium, uncaring for the way she tilted slightly into the abysm. "It's worth _anything_. It's always a good thing to take time to breath in between blowing up whatever Anderson wants us to blow up. Now, go somewhere and let me bask."

The last sentence was as authoritative as any order in battle.

"And if _anyone_ asks? I'm lost."


	39. Greets the Policeman

**_39)_ ** _Garrus Vakarian, C-Sec officer._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"I hope they listen to you, Commander."

As if, he can almost hear her. She is an unknown variable, human and a soldier; at most, they will see her as an annoyance.

"Do you _honestly_ believe they will take anything I say over one of you?"

She's calling bullshit. He would too. If Garrus didn't suspect Saren, if he didn't know he was up to no good…

"No."

Until that moment, the Commander had been unfailingly unsympathetic (he thought, that blank expression could mean anything) and polite. When faced with his reply, the human's lips twisted, teeth flashing white. Was she angry? Was that amusement? Hunger? It was quickly hidden after a look from her Captain.

"The idea of someone trying might make them pay attention to more than themselves."

To his surprise, Garrus had been the one speaking.

To his greater surprise, Shepard looked at him, lips twisted wider and a strangled – honest – sound escaping her throat.

"Commander," scolded the older official.

"All quiet, Captain."

A scoff.

"You're thinking it."

"I'm thinking they got an honest cop searching for proof they don't want."

"I'm thinking you shouldn't add that part with the Council," Garrus intervened. "I mean. Maybe. Commander."


	40. Evaluates the Councilor

**_40)_ ** _Sparatus Gyantis, Turian Councilor_

**xxxXXXxxx**

The nerve of that woman. Marching calmly up to the pedestal, turning to people so much wiser than her and accuse a brother of his. Well, perhaps not brother but Saren was certainly more familiar and trustworthy. Humans were all like this; they thought they held the truth in their hands and barged through everyone else.

Sparatus allowed his distaste to show, the barest twitch of his mandibles while listening to the woman's speech. Above him, Saren smiled, sharing both distaste and humor.

This was a warrior of the humans, he pondered, turning his attention back to the woman. She would barely reach his shoulder when standing. And what was with those things on her head? It looked as if she had lost time ripping fabric apart and gluing it onto her head. She wasn't even as educated as her ambassador who, while insultingly proud, managed to remember he was nothing in comparison to the Council.

Shepard did no such thing. Her teeth bared, stubbornness in every line of the alien face. "I'll find proof."

The councilor hesitated in his disbelief. Betrayal existed everywhere, even in his own den.

Then he laughed and forgot the thought ever touched his mind.


	41. Spies the Pervert

**_41)_ ** _Jeff Moreau, Flight lieutenant of SSV Normandy, Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Your signal hasn't left Chora's Den for a while, Commander. Busy?"

A large part of his duties – ordered by Anderson himself – had been to keep an eye on Shepard. According to the Captain, while she was a good officer, she would occasionally be sidetracked by innocents, criminals, old people or shiny things in her way. And so he did. The small camera installed on Shepard's uniform had been showing nothing bar _pink_ for a good amount of time.

"Ashley's ready to kill people," she informed dryly. "Alenko's tripping over his own tongue and I was adopted by a Krogan Battlemaster."

"So if anything explodes?"

"Anderson should have known better than to give me free reign."

Joker couldn't see the woman's face but the sound, the undertone of her words spoke of someone wishing a wall to bash its head against.

"Commander? A quick question. Why is the camera showing nothing but pink?"

"It's inside my drink. The drink is pink."

Joker frowned at the cockpit, silently asking. It gave him no answer. Obviously, he had to make the rather obvious question.

"Why?"

"It was connected while I was in the bathroom."

_…right._

"I'll be going now, Commander."

"Thought so, Lieutenant."


	42. Appears the Krogan

_**42)** _ _Urdnot Wrex, Battlemaster and mercenary._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"He's mine, Shepard."

Wrex didn't wait to see what the Commander's reaction. This was his job and, quite frankly, he really wanted to shoot this bastard. Spineless weasel, hiding behind locked doors! Ah. He was a Krogan, little human. Krogan didn't let something as stupid as a fucking door bar their way. They destroyed them. So he did, kicking the remains of the man he had been hired to kill.

Shepard stared at the scene, shotgun by her side, apparently giving up on the fight.

"You didn't try to stop me."

Wonders never ceased.

"You're older than the Normandy's crew put together," she informed with a shrug. "I won't fight a losing battle when the reward's a bastard who deserved whatever he got. But while you're in my ship," her voice lowered, steeled slightly and sounded like a foal barely out of its mother. "You walk where I lead."

There was no respect in her expression. There was none on his.

"What if I don't want to bother, human?"

"I'm Alliance. What we lack in brawn, we compensate with guns." She gave him a quick once over at that, head tilting to one side. "I'd probably need loads of them."


	43. Breathes the Quarian

_**43)** _ _Tali'zorah nar Rhaya, informant_

**xxxXXXxxx**

It shouldn't be this hard to do the right thing, Tali'zorah thought, staring the face of the turian who would likely murder her. The fear was so great; it clogged her throat and filled her veins. It kept her from registering immediately when that very male disappeared in a shower of red rain.

"Miss? You okay?"

Someone knelt by her and was that compassion in its face or exasperation? It didn't matter. Tali threw her arms around the woman, lulled by the smell of smoke and oil which was natural when working in the flotilla. This one carried like a second scent, hidden underneath gunpowder and ozone.

"Miss?" The woman called out. "Stop snickering, Krogan."

"Don't see why."

Tali'zorah was sure she was grumbling something back. But the woman didn't move so her hands tightened around the metal plaques of her armor.

"What's with you and lost dogs, Shepard?"

He sounded mocking, dismissing. The woman snorted.

"You tell me, Wrex. Woof."

Someone complained, someone else ordered and yet, she stayed. Enough for Tali'zorah to breathe deeply and stand on steady legs.

"Alive there?" Whispered the female voice by her ear.

Another breath.

"Yes."

No one was more surprised than her.


	44. Promotes the Specter

_**44)** _ _Jane Shepard, Lieutenant-Commander of the Earth Systems Alliance,_ _Spec_ _ial_ _T_ _actics and_ _Re_ _connaissance_

**xxxXXXxxx**

The first time she was promoted, she felt proud.

She was good at what she did. Sure, what she did was basically barrel into things and shoot – hardly graceful to begin with. If you went into this life, you had to be good to come out in one piece. She focused on that and did her job, stuffing everything into the locked box all soldiers eventually built.

This? This was means to an end, given because the other choice was to actually take action. It didn't feel right. It tasted like poison on her tongue and her pride bristled against it.

"I am honored," Jane spoke the words memorized and repeated a thousand times before, so many times that they hardly had meaning. If Anderson had been up there, with that glint in his eyes that said 'one more step, you're almost there', she would have. She would have smiled until her lips ached and her face hurt.

The Council's eyes said 'you don't belong here'; yelled 'you're not good enough'.

"Does it matter?" Anderson whispered somewhere behind her.

"I'm not what they think."

"Then what are you?"

"Damn good."

A comforting hand rested on her shoulder.

"Prove it, Commander."


	45. Watches the Ambassador

_**45)** _ _Donnel Udina, Ambassador of the Earth Systems Alliance._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Udina had had his doubts about the girl. There were other applicants, more malleable and prone to do what they were told instead of the 'right thing'. He needed a good tool, not a good person. Anderson had suggested her though and Hackett had agreed.

Shepard it was.

Watching her walk in front of the council though, he could see what made her a good choice. Effective like a good gun. The ambassador didn't bother hiding his smile at that thought. This was a victory for humanity –and for himself. Because, Specter or not, humanity came first and she knew it. Elysium would remind her of their treachery. The attack to the colonies would haunt her dreams.

"Well done, Commander." Shepard shook his hand with an expression of carefully built politeness. Someone had drilled that into her at some point. Good. Something else he wouldn't have to bother with.

"Thank you, sir."

"I am sure you'll do your best from now. You must be the first, not the last."

No one reacted; not the Captain or her alien companions who, eventually, would have to go.

"Of course, sir."

Her closeness to Anderson was unwished though. That would have to change.


	46. Knocks the Babysitter

_**46)** _ _Robert Dover, Lieutenant of Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Nice digs!"

Jane blinked slowly as she raised her head from her pillow.

Awesome ship, cool décor, nice bed and Jane looked tired as all hells. Something very small constricted in Robert's chest but then again, that was why he was there. Cheers!

"Why are you here?"

"Nosing around. Do you have anything to eat?"

God, did no one checked up on her? Woman seemed heavily sedated!

"How?"

"Does it matter?"

"I'll have the emergency exits under vigilance from now on."

"Bitch. Making me use the goddamned front door. How boring do you want me to be?"

Robert had been a bastard to her through the years. Whatever had happened during the past months, though, had her tethering on a rope and about to fall.

"I'm going to sleep."

"I'm gonna watch you sleep like an awesome stalker."

She threw her hands up as if upset before diving into the covers. Annoyed? Yeah, the same way she had been in that orphanage when he had glued himself to her.

"I'm okay," she declared.

"Sure you are."

He sat down by the bed, crossing his arms while planning to scold everyone outside. Somehow. Because even a Specter needed looking after, damnit!


	47. Aids the Son

_**47)** _ _Urdnot Wrex, mercenary at the service of the SSV Normandy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Wrex had taken the lead when the ground began shaking. Images flashed by as he ran, rocks and metal, warm earth exploding underneath his feet. He didn't stop running until he landed on the metallic floor of the Normandy, his companions right behind. Silence reigned.

Until someone giggled. Following the sound, Wrex found a black haired head shaking with laughter, body half crushed by his. He hadn't seen the Commander smiling, nevermind laughing, since her promotion.

"Threatened by Krogan, chased by volcano, squashed by Krogan."

"Don't ask what else, Commander," groaned Garrus' voice from whatever corner he had been thrown into. "I want to live past today."

Wrex stood up exasperatedly, gripping the human's hands and forcing her to follow.

Lately, he was more of babysitter than mercenary. When he had decided to refuse the Fate of his people, it wasn't to change some dumb human's diapers.

The fuck was with her not being able to keep herself alive?

He pushed the shotgun to her hands before she left forgot it, watching as her ridiculous lips twitched into a grin before she punched his shoulder.

"Good work, Wrex."

His goddamned father was laughing of him somewhere. Wrex just knew it.


	48. Thinks the Archeologist

_**48)** _ _Liara T'soni, Asari adept, Archeologist._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Trust me." Through black eyes, Liara saw the Commander's painfully pressed white lips. "I will only see what I need to."

She did, honestly. She read the message, connecting the dots hidden within, and that should have been it. She was an archeologist though and an Asari and so very curious about the unknown.  Liara's mind was fluid like energy ( _A proper manifestation_ , her mother had once said). Shepard's mind, however, was made of spikes and walls. The human mind beckoned and she followed, marveling at its uniqueness.

How pretty. Green trees, light skies, picket fences, small constructions, happiness. Bright lovely images. Liara didn't even notice when it started flickered like a bad television connection. Only when the Commander's mind rebelled, violent as a summer storm, taking all peaceful images with it, leaving bodies replacing grass, blood staining her skin and filling her mouth. Debris fell from the skies, fire licked her heels and burrowed into her clothes. Her mind recoiled, ripping itself without preparation from the Commander's.

When she woke, Shepard hadn't moved from her chair, sharp and cold, the physical manifestation of her mind.

"Never do that again."

 _I will kill you if you try_ , whispered every undertone.


	49. Saves the Enemy

_**49)** _ _Saren Arterius, former_ _Special Tactics and Reconnaissance._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The human didn't understand. She didn't know. She didn't see what it was like to stand in the picture and look at every corner and see every speck of paint and touch of dust. She didn't and couldn't; like him once, before Sovereign, before that presence in his mind which made the world so much brighter.

She didn't know, this dumb chick.

"You can't even see what you're doing," Saren whispered as he slapped her away, as he crushed her windpipe underneath his fingers while she thrashed to slip away. "Don't struggle if you're already burning. Die with honor."

"I'm not going to lay down and die just because you think it's hopeless!"

Later, before Sovereign filled his mind and thoughts with dreams of conquest, he'd remember these brown eyes, blue light and an old gun.

"Fucking coward! You Godforsaken cowardly bastard."

And her conviction, which was so great that it ripped through her skin and his, almost, very nearly almost touching that part of his mind that was Sovereign.

He doubted.

He wavered.

His hand released her neck and allowed her body to slip to the floor, shaking as Sovereign raged powerlessly somewhere in his mind.

And Saren smiled.


	50. Chooses the Superior

_**50)** _ _Ashley Williams & Kaidan Alenko, _ _Earth Systems Alliance._

**xxxXXXxxx**

He didn't wait for the Commander. He knew she always made the right decision, that her task was everything to her and there was little reason for her to save him.

_She didn't wait for the Commander. She knew she was the least important in their group, that the right choice was to save as many people as possible and the Commander knew it too._

He didn't fear. This was the right way to go.

_She didn't fear. This was delayed since Eden Prime._

He didn't regret. He would never be good enough for her.

_She didn't regret. She had always done the best she could._

The moment of truth lasted for a bit longer than both expected. They could almost see her in the distance, leaning from one place to the other as her decision wavered. Their breathing stilled, itched in a twin motion.

"I'm sorry, Ash," the Commander whispered through the line and Ashley breathed deeply. "They are more."

_She didn't hate. Numbers were numbers and ruthless calculations are the only way to go in War. She didn't hate because she knew the Commander wished she could take her place._

"See you on the other side, Skipper."


	51. Guides the Elder

_**51)** _ _Karin Chakwas, SSV Normandy doctor._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Did I do the right thing?"

The Commander lay in one of the infirmary cots when the doctor returned. One arm covered her eyes and silence covered everything else.

"Does it matter what I think?"

It was the wrong reply, of course. Shepard needed to hear everything would be okay when it wasn't and wouldn't be. Ashley had died.

"You're my Commander, Shepard. You will always do right by us." Karin rested her hand gently on the girl's tanned arm. Shepard was her Commander because she had proved herself to be. When push came to shove, she would do what needed to be done. "I believe in you."

Shepard's eyes emerged from behind her arm, an expression which was childish and more than a little fearful. In between, Karin could see Shepard's usual steel trying to emerge from her sadness.

"I might do something incredibly stupid next." The Commander stated abruptly. "I might screw up again."

Like everyone else did? At least she had tried which was more than the ambassador could say on a good day.

"And I'll buy extra bandages just in case, Commander."

The doctor would remember the gratitude on the Commander's expression for a long time.


	52. Agrees the Command

_**52)** David Anderson, Captain of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy & Jeff Moreau, Flight lieutenant of SSV Normandy, Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The Commander was far less on the edge than anyone else in the ship. He didn't get it. Anderson would be setting them free soon enough. And then, they would be leaving to face a freaking Reaper of all things and all Shepard seemed was like someone had woken her from her nap before time.

The speakers came alive, followed by Anderson's steady voice.

"Don't pout, Commander."

Eh. What now? Joker raised his head to look at Shepard. He didn't see a pout. Annoyance, yes. Boredom, like hell. Pouting?

"You're smirking right now, aren't you?" she blurted out.

Was that laughter?

"Go kill Reapers," continued the Captain. "I want a full report."

"You so are."

Even he could see it.

"See you when you come back."

"I can _hear_ you gloating. It is very annoying."

"Godspeed, Commander."

"Is that your subtle way to tell me to get moving?"

"I used no subtlety. If I punch him once for you, will you get moving?"

"Deal!"

A pained grown ensued from the other side of the line.

Joker would always be amazed at the Commander's capacity to bullshit her way into making others believe she truly felt sorry for Udina's cracked jaw.


	53. Misses the Man

**_53)_ ** _Kaidan Alenko, Earth Systems Alliance._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Shepard wasn't unreachable. She was a woman and, after helping to steal a ship, being accused of fraternization wasn't his worst concern. All he had to do was to enter that room. Ignore everyone else (not that anyone was looking) and ignore his baggage (because Shepard sure as hell wasn't Raina).

"Something wrong?"

Shepard stared from beyond her room's threshold. Her uniform still hadn't been replaced and her expression showed clear surprise.

"I was wondering," _if you needed company._ "Do you need anything? Have you eaten?"

_How can anyone be so bad at this? God help him, he was useless._

The open door was a barrier. It would be so easy. He could reach out; she was just a woman like any other.

"I don't need anything, Lieutenant. Thank you."

Only she wasn't. In his eyes, she was the woman with his life in her hands, with that ship and a civilization clinging to her shoulders.

"I'll go see how long until arrival, Commander. Joker should have an estimate."

He didn't see Shepard's hand moving to touch him. And he definitely missed the way it hesitated before falling to her side as the woman turned and reached for her armor.


	54. Asks the VI

_**54)**_ _Vigil, Prothean Virtual Inteligence, imprinted personality of_ Ksad Ishan, Prothean Chief Overseer of the Ilos facility.

**xxxXXXxxx**

It was not a prothean. It was a computer. A ghost inside a metal box.

_1781 seconds to shut down._

"When the researchers woke, they understood the prothean race was doomed." The words leave the speakers mechanically. It speaks them all, trusts them to this creature which was not advanced enough to be destroyed.

_1254 seconds to shut down._

It confesses its murders, the thousands killed in sleep in order to reach a little further into this moment. All for nothing. This creature arrived in a low-class vehicle, its weapons ridiculously put together and its armor would not last a fraction of a second against a Reaper. It won't win.

Only time ticked away and there was no one else.

_652 seconds to shut down._

This was all it can do. Share information, show the way. It couldn't fight. It couldn't even when alive. Still, that something hidden in his memory banks, wedged between one byte and another, rebelled against the script.

"Finish it, human. Finish them."

_Auxiliary systems failure._

_15 seconds to shut down._

The trace of something bristled one last time. "For me." That sounded right. Like something he would say when alive.

_Critical energy failure._

_Shutting down._


	55. Begs the Crew

_**55)** _ _Garrus Vakarian, Urdnot Wrex, Kaidan Alenko, SSV Normandy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"By the Spirits, Commander!"

"Shut up, Garrus."

"You're going to get us killed before Saren does."

"Shut up, Wrex."

"Commander…!"

"Next one to talk instead of manning the goddamned cannon is getting kicked out of the fucking Mako. Shut up and keep shooting."

"There's a bloody colossus right in front!"

"I have eyes, lieutenant. I also said keep shooting."

They didn't stray from the road which lead to the portal. There was danger all around but the Commander, with the mindset and lack of interest for her personal safety that characterized a vanguard (something they were all terribly against), ignored them and everything else and focused on the shimmering conduit instead. The moment before the Mako touched the portal was the longest in all of their lives, they could swear.

It explained why the group nearly ran out of the car as soon as it stopped against the nearest wall, never mind the fact that the Citadel seemed to be burning to the ground. All but Shepard, who exited the vehicle and then stared at the burning wreck with an expression in her face which seemed too close to sadness.

"Are you saying goodbye to the thing?"

"Shut up, Garrus."


	56. Determines the Slave

_**56)** _ _Saren Arterius, former_ _Special Tactics and Reconnaissance._

**xxxXXXxxx**

That little voice. It lived right at the edge of his conscience, far and hidden, so deep he could barely touch it but, while the Commander spoke, it ran against it chains, it struggled and flayed itself alive to be heard. _Turian. Specter. Strong and rebellious_. _This is for the good of others_. Others were not important, only Sovereign. _Only they were everything. He had to save them._ Save through destruction. They would kneel for their own good. _Turians didn't kneel. How could it even think otherwise?_

The voice laughed. _Even the human knows more_ , it griped in a tone that warred between pedantic and annoyed. The human knew nothing, nothing of importance. _It certainly knew how to yell out truth which is more than Sovereign has ever done._

She was inconsequential.

_Because listening to Sovereign is so much better._

Saren didn't know who he was anymore. He wasn't anything, had died right when Sovereign had appeared, when the human had killed whatever was left of him in that blasted colony. And he was just so fucking tired.

_I'm Saren._

_I'm Turian._

_I'm a Specter._

_I'll go down on my own terms._

The trigger pressed and he knew nothing else.


	57. Implores the Driver

**_57)_ ** _Guiani M'teaq, Lieutenant, pilot of the Destiny Ascension_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Guiani wasn't a matriarch. In her race's years, she was barely past puberty, an age better spent with a gun in her hands. What better weapon in the galaxy than the giant who hummed underneath her fingers?

It was going to be her death.

There were screams inside her head, started just when the strange ship had crossed the sky. There were screams outside her head, more familiar and infinitely more distressing calls for help, heralded by that very same ship. And, on her receiver, two human voices argued about whether or not they would die.

Guiani's lips were glued against each other. She wanted to scream and interrupt, to have those people save them because she was _too young, they were so many, why should they end here_? The strange ship didn't factor in that equation. There was air in her lungs and a fear so deep in the pit of her stomach that she felt like throwing up at any second. She wanted to live. She wanted her mothers and her companion, she wanted clear skies and _silence_. She wanted!

"Save the Destiny Ascension!" Yelled the female voice. "What are you waiting for?"

The pilot felt like crying.


	58. Thanks the Antagonist

**_58)_ ** _Jane Shepard,_ _Special Tactics and Reconnaissance_ _and Commander of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"I'm done."

Saren's body rested nearby, finally fallen, broken and crushed beyond repair.

"You should have listened to me, you asshole," she continued. Her head had joined the rest of her body in their pained complaining and it didn't stop even when a hand reached to cover her forehead. God, she wanted medigel. "Enough bombs and Sovereign went to hell. I told you. Everything dies." Ash began to coat her throat, making her falter in her rant. Trying to cough only made the sharp pain on her chest worsen. "I'm fucking tired, you damned bastard. Yeah, keep laughing. At least you're resting. I'm half broken. Did you dislocate my shoulder?"

Possibly also given her a concussion because something had to be blamed for her current conversation with a dead being.

"I won't forget, you goddamned bastard. You did the right thing. Right at the end."

Her body complained loudly, every nerve seemingly on fire as she struggled to rise from the floor. Her arm hung limply by her side, carefully held together by the remains of her armor.

"So, thanks."

Jane patted the blinking remains and sighed loudly before squaring her shoulders together and started dragging herself through the debris.


	59. Overthinks the Asari

**_59)_ ** _Liara T'soni,_ _Asari adept, Archeologist._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"You're drunk."

"You're scowling."

"You're very drunk."

"You're very scowling. This game is boring."

It was the first time Liara had seen the Commander so relaxed and it hit her that she should stop placing her on a pedestal. Sovereign was dead. Why shouldn't she relax?

"Why are you scowling?" Shepard asked, blinking at her drink. The straw was bringing her some trouble, apparently. "It's a party. You should be drinking."

"The government asked me back. My expertise is needed."

"You don't want to."

"Not really."

"Then don't go."

"Where else am I supposed to go? My last job's covered in lava."

"You're overthinking this, blue." Shepard straightened – or tried. The movement changed little except the position of her head against the nearby wall. "You can get a temporary occupation until some other dust-covered ruin shows up. After Sovereign, they'll line up those for you. Bet the Alliance can handle the temporary thing."

Liara found herself smiling. A little.

"Just stay aboard."

Drunk, smiling and out-of-it and Shepard still said the right things.

"For a little while?"

Her shoulder was bumped companionably. "For as long as you'd like. But you'll have to help with the paperwork. Get me another drink?"


	60. Inquires the Battlemaster

**_60)_ ** _Urdnot Wrex, Battlemaster and mercenary._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The Commander's eyes strayed to his already packed things and lingered. Sadness rolled off her in waves.

"What?" He asked bluntly, pushing his last shotgun onto a bag. "This was what you wanted."

"As if." When he looked up, her lips were twisted in that half-smile which reminded of a kid up to no good. "If it was up to me, you'd be an Alliance General and I'd be ordering people a room in the Normandy redecorated in Tushanka style. What's that like anyway? Couple of debris? Radiation?"

Too much time with that pilot.

"Funny, Shepard. That your way of implying you'll miss me?"

"I don't _imply_ things. That's Liara's job."

He continued packing, caring little for any organization as long as he managed to fit everything inside. Even the things she got him over the months.

"It's alright," she eventually commented. "To care even if they don't."

"I know."

"I know you know. But sometimes you need someone to tell you anyway."

A pause grew between them, turned into what soon would be physical space.

"Want to come with?"

"You know I can't."

"You know I know. But you needed me to ask anyway."

Her smile was impossibly childish.


	61. Realizes the Officer

**_61)_ ** _Charles Pressly, Navigation Officer of the SSV Normandy, Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The ship felt empty.

He remembered how he thought about the non-human crew. Shepard hadn't stopped him but she had disagreed fiercely. And now, it felt odd to fly without them. He was used to the Wrex's comments. A day wouldn't pass without Garrus coming by the control room. He could barely imagine the ship's core without Tali's presence.

"Are we ready, Presley?"

It was strange, unexpected and very unwelcome. Their ship was composed by them all and to walk by their empty places left a dry taste in his mouth.

He should have apologized, Presley realized. Before they all left, he should have talked to each of them and said he had been a fool. Still, he'd have his chance. He had Shepard and the woman was a walking orphanage. Before long they would make their way back.

"Why are you smiling?"

Presley coughed lightly.

"Nothing, ma'am. Might I suggest you coffee before we leave?" Shepard raised an eyebrow which did little to detract that her eyes were lined with grey smudges and her hair fought every second to leave its customary bun. "Your uniform, Commander. It's on backwards."

He heard her cursing all the way to the elevator.


	62. Falls the Ship

**_62)_ ** _Jane Shepard,_ _Special Tactics and Reconnaissance_ _and Commander of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Shepard's eyes were blurred with tears. Above her, the Normandy lay dying, her stomach open and hemorrhaging into nowhere. Her teeth ground into each other as magnetic boots were forced forward.

"I can still save her, Commander!"

Bullshit. She was trying to keep what little blood she had left to keep them alive. Shepard could see the last flashes of life in open circuitry, in the alarm which was barely heard because no sound could travel in nothing.

"She's gone, Joker. She's bloody gone. And we're going with her unless we leave now."

But even with the proof all around her, the Commander still trusted. The Normandy had always kept her safe. It had folded itself around her when upon her arrival, given her warmth and family, the first home since she had been a child.

She was dying though and her strength faltered.

Shepard didn't even have the breath to be surprised as she lurched underneath her boots and threw the Commander overboard, away from the safety which Joker's open hand would have been. The woman was, after all, part of the ship. All that was the Normandy was dying and Shepard could be no exception.

_Please, be quick._


	63. Reports the Journalist

**_63)_** _Khalisah al-Jilani,_ _Westerlund News reporter_

**xxxXXXxxx**

The news had fallen on the building as if an earthquake had rocked its foundations. Everyone knew the woman's name. Even though it had been an army effort and the work of many, Commander Jane Shepard had been the posterchild, the Leader even when others had ordered her to stand down.

Khalisah couldn't say she was sad. When she had met Shepard, the reporter had been led by the nose into asking what the _Commander_ had wanted and received so many platitudes that it was a wonder it had been enough to air. How could she about the woman's death? She didn't know her or the thousands of soldiers fighting on the frontlines. Her job was to tell their stories and not to mourn. Weaklings couldn't do her job.

 _Not so much of a Saint now, are you Shepard?_ It was better to have a dead hero than a living soldier who spoke too much. Khalisah didn't know who was happier, Geth or Ambassador Udina.

"Today is a sad day for the Alliance."

Khalisah had to make a living though. Feeling pity for the poor bitch would be a waste of her time and her viewers'.

"She will be missed."


	64. Hates the Family

**_64)_ ** _Marie Shepard, high-school senior._

**xxxXXXxxx**

She didn't want to be there.

Her rage was so great Marie couldn't breathe. It drowned her grief and tears in hatred, as thick and disgusting as syrup. She didn't want to stand there because these people kept mumbling apologies, ridiculous words instead of kneeling at her feet and begging for the forgiveness she would never give.

 _You don't matter. Neither do you._ Marie watched every face with derision. _You, you didn't believe her, why are you here?_ Robert stood by her and his presence wasn't comforting, it wasn't hers but it was good enough, keeping her from screaming and attacking her sister's murderers with her bare hands.

"I miss her." Marie was hugged by blue skin, blue scales, brown skin, so much grief and somehow, these mattered. Even the pilot who Jane had also loved, Marie realized as her hatred boiled, her mantra evolved and _you shouldn't matter more than my sister's life!_

The Alliance flag was placed in her hands. Marie, staring at the darkened triangle, vowed to burn it as soon as she was left alone.

Her sister was dead and the hero lived. And, God above, how she wished it had never existed to begin with.


	65. States the Squad

**_65)_ ** _SSV Normandy crew._

**xxxXXXxxx**

He wasn't going to serve her killers. He'd leave and find the darkest corner of the galaxy where her lessons would be useful.

She was going home. The fight wasn't over and her people were still homeless.

There was one way to keep going. He could mourn what could have been or grit his teeth and become her.

He was going to take his people from the mud. All he had wanted was an excuse. While no one cared or would thank him, she would look from Maker knew where and nod in approval. Not that he needed it.

He was going to keep fighting. He sent her into Hell and convinced her to push forward even when things seemed dire. He had killed her. To do anything else would be to kill her again and he refused to do so with every fiber of his being.

She would mourn her. Who else would mourn the girl dreaming nightmares in her infirmary?

He was going to drink and smile and joke. He was going to ignore her ghost every time he flew, not address it and he definitely wasn't going to miss her.

She was going to bring her back.


	66. Observes the Traitor

**_66)_ ** _Wilson,_ _Cerberus Medical Officer._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Wilson hadn't believed Miranda.

The security cameras were locked onto one target and did their best to keep up. It wasn't enough. To get a clear image of his target, Wilson had to constantly change cameras because the goddamned woman wouldn't keep still. She fought as if someone had injected her with enough adrenaline for three grown men, jumping from side to side of her battleground, smashing against her targets before emptying her clip on the next metallic being. After a couple of rooms, the hesitation of the clips and the strange weapons faded into what he could only deem as fury.

She was treating the whole thing like an obstacle course. What kind of thing had the Illusive Man resurrected?

Was that fucking Taylor?

"Quit story time, we're being shot at," he heard over the speakers. Apparently, the Commander wasn't really up to talk with someone carrying the Cerberus' insignia. Wouldn't the boss like that? The little tool wasn't so little or so inclined to be a tool.

She was inclined to be a nuisance though. And with that nuisance left alive, he wouldn't be paid.

"Taylor, over here!"

Shepard wouldn't leave that ship. He'd make sure of it.


	67. Drags the Fool

**_67)_ ** _Prazza vas Neema, Scout and soldier of the Quarian fleet_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Stay down." What else was he supposed to do, human? Prazza bared his teeth underneath his mask only to grind them in pain when the Commander clamped her abnormal hand on his shoulder and dragged him into the relative safety of a nearby crate. She had no care whatsoever, he thought, right up to the moment where he noticed none of the clamps of his uniform were touched and, in the midst of shooting and dragging his dead weight, she avoided any contact with his ruptured armor.

The Commander eventually stopped moving. Prazza recognized the environment around him as one of the living units of the colony. Behind her, the defense weapons continued their assault, barely kept back by the other two humans.

"Why?"

Shepard's alien expression was definitely irritated. Irritated and not angry; like he was a dumb child instead of a grown warrior.

"Tali's a friend," she stated bluntly. "She's not a soldier. She hasn't learned to wake up at night and remember the faces of all those who died under her command. And I'm not letting her found out."

A final grind of metal against metal resounded as Shepard locked the door.

"So you're living. Be grateful."


	68. Embraces the Pieces

**_68)_ ** _Tali'Zorah vas Neema, Engineer of the Quarian Fleet._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Tali'Zorah felt her friend's arms encircle her body. Lightly at first, a movement in everything familiar when it came to the dark-haired woman. But slowly, as if a switch flicked on, as if something snapped, that embrace felt tighter and Tali found herself holding back with just as much strength. She had died. She had been gone. She had been their support and, without her, they had all crumbled, everything they had built had fallen away. Oh, but it hadn't been the only thing to crumble. Shepard had too, Tali realized. She had been broken and shattered and built from scratch like she had been a mannequin from a store.

Did she think about it?

Did she dream about it?

Did it pain her?

"I'm here."

The retort was whispered.

"Am I?"

Shepard was her friend; saved her life and helped her people, dragging and yelling and fighting until her last breath only to come back and continue. But Shepard broke just like everyone; a little more rarely, a little more strongly.

"Who else would fight on the edge of the galaxy for people she doesn't know?"

Tali could swear Shepard laughed.

"Right now, I'm not sure I want to."


	69. Comforts the XO

**_69)_ ** _Miranda Lawson, Leading Operative of the Lazarus Cell and Executive officer of the SSV Normandy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Ever since their arrival from Omega, Shepard hadn't left the windows of the medical wing. Armored and bloodied, her form rested against the pristine windows, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Ridiculous.

"We should have saved the doctor first," Miranda commented. The crew might feel uncomfortable to face the Commander but she, most certainly, did not.

Shepard didn't even glance at her. "Didn't ask you anything, Lawson."

"You should go report."

"I'm sure yours is detailed. For future reference, I take cereal bars with me. It's how I don't pass out."

Miranda opened her mouth to continue but whatever she was about to say was interrupted by Shepard's very blunt, very annoyed glare. "Lawson, at any moment you want to notice one of my friends is bleeding onto a hospital bed after being hit with a missile, I'd be really fucking grateful."

A small cough ensued. "He's going to survive, Commander." It nearly sounded as comfort. If one had no idea how to go about with the concept.

Shepard found enough time to stop her gawking of the operation to gawk at her, her annoyance fleeing as quickly as rain in the desert.

"By what wolves were you raised, Lawson?"


	70. Slumbers the Vigilante

**_70)_ ** _Garrus Vakarian,_ _Ex-C-Sec officer, vigilante_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

It was a nice dream. No doubt caused by the excessive amount of drugs cursing through his system but nice nevertheless. He was back in the Normandy, comfortably ensconced in a pile of blankets, fringe carefully arranged in a stupidly soft pillow. His arm was even covered in fabric, a curiously thread-like material which fell apart with every soft movement.

"Shepard?"

Face covered with shiny scars, topped with that odd fabric, skin darkened with lack of sleep but whole and alive.

"Who else?" Her narrowed eyes appeared in his line of vision. "You're supposed to be resting."

He was. That much was obvious.

"What happened?" Since when were dreams supposed to hurt though?

"You tried eating a missile," Shepard informed unkindly.

 _Ah._ "That sounds stupid."

"You tried stopping a missile with your face," she clarified. "It was incredibly stupid."

Like any dream was supposed to be.

"It's okay, big guy. Relax. You get out of here and I'll fit you with a full-body shield. Very manly."

Garrus saw her close her eyes and lay her head back against his form, her fingers painfully tight against his wrist.

"Why aren't you making sense?"

"I'm tired. Shut up."

What a nice dream.


	71. Prods the Geneticist

**_71)_ ** _Mordin Solus_ _,_ _geneticist, professor and former operative of the Salarian Special Tasks Group (STG)._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The Commander was fascinating.

Or better. Her body was fascinating. A mismatch mess of metal and flesh all meddled together. _Playing God, yes_. Like he had. Still, fascinating. Miss Lawson had done a good job in replacing the severed cerebral connections while enhancing the biotic capabilities. Of course those same connections were probably under the severe duress caused by the Commander's fighting style but for them to hold on. Very good work.

One of the sensors needed adjustment. If only the Commander would cooperate and keep still. Unfortunately, the woman didn't know the meaning of such word. It seemed physically impossible for her to not waste energy at every given second. _Children. Always in a hurry._

He moved the sensor, adjusting the strap tightly to keep it from slipping. _There. Just right_.

"Doc, I'm eating my dinner!"

_Children. Always complaining._

"Tasks should be undertaken as soon as there is the opportunity to, Commander," he said. "Do not chew so quickly. Potential risk of choking ever-present."

A sound very much akin to an animalistic grunt left her lips.

"If you continue talking, potential will be damned."

Good chance to test body's reactions to outside stimuli.

He opened his lips to continue.


	72. Believes the Survivor

**_72)_ ** _Marie Shepard, college student, pre-med._

**xxxXXXxxx**

It was a joke. Marie's hands had shaken endlessly as she had read her, supposedly, dead sister's message. It wasn't fair that someone would still use Jane like this. She was dead and not buried because they hadn't found her body but the ship had gone up in flames and none of the pods had had been her refuge.

The girl wasn't sure she could breathe properly. Fear clogged her throat and worsened the situation with every passing second. It was a joke and she would kill whoever had used her sister's name like this.

The Commander appeared from the dock; tall, dark and whole as she had ever been, solid and impossibly real against the Citadel's walls. And Marie feared those final steps would make the ghost fade into nothing.

Marie didn't move. She'd wake up if she moved.

"Kitten."

_Don't move._

Jane was smiling; honest, real and heartbreaking.

"Don't I get a hug?"

Armored arms opened widely – _don't believe_ – and closed around her before Marie could escape.

She had an urge to cry; to yell and harm this woman who had hurt her so. But all she did was to hug the uncomfortable armor until her arms hurt.


	73. Awakes the Baby

**_73)_ ** _Grunt_ _, Krogan soldier, vulgo 'Perfect Krogan',_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Sleeping in the tub wasn't peaceful. It was learning, images upon images, half-explained lessons in words he didn't understand. Some were simple. Rage. Vengeance. Growth. Some were hard. Mistakes. Betrayal. Pain. If he could, he'd choose to ignore the later.

When the water drained, he was sure he had shown weakness. Pain. But suddenly she was there and she was a target, the weak human, so weak he'd be able to cut her into two if he wanted. The woman was blunt though and that resonated nicely with him. She saw no reason to not give him what he wanted, explained in no-nonsense terms that were almost like his father's words. And nothing she said caused pain.

Commander. Shepard.

Old. _Small_.

"If your enemies aren't strong enough," he growled at her. "I'll kill you."

Anger. Strength. Movement. Weapon.

"Put me down."

Aggression. Fear. Power. Desperate. The weapon dug harder; black eyes narrowed almost into a line.

"I won't say it again."

Violent and aggressive. Like a wounded animal about to die. Grunt liked that.

He might get to kill her someday.

A ragged smile appeared on his face as he released her, watching as the human put her gun away.


	74. Intervenes the Yeoman

**_74)_ ** _Kelly Chambers, yeoman of the_ _Normandy SR-2._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The voices were everything but calm. They resounded from the bowels of the ship, each sound more dangerous than the one uttered before.

"You were changed by Cerberus?" The Commander was yelling. "So what, Jack? Half of us aren't even completely organic anymore. Don't play the victim. You can break half this crew with one hand."

"I can break you if I wanted to, girl scout!"

"I'd space you before you thought about trying. My ship, my rules. Toe the line or you're out."

Silence fell over the space, broken only by Shepard's soft footfalls as she walked back up. A little start occurred as the Commander noticed her recent audience.

"That was incredibly callous of you, Commander. She has some…" Kelly's tirade stopped before it could be finished as Shepard raised one hand to interrupt.

"Jack doesn't get kindness yet," she stated. "I can use bluntness, which she'll understand, or waste my time."

The elevator bell whispered gently as it arrived.

"One last thing, Miss Chambers?" Shepard entered and again, her eyes locked onto hers without wavering, threat and warning both. "Don't question my actions. Shrink or not, you're not a poster child for abuse."

The elevator door closed.


	75. Searches the Vanguard

**_75)_ ** _Jane Shepard, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance and Commander of the Normandy SR-2._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Jane was going to kill whoever had sent him here. It didn't matter that he had been there by his own free will or that he was a soldier and therefore obligated to do these kinds of stunts. Terminus systems were for people asking for death (or, in her particular case, already dead). Not for Alliance soldiers with better places to be.

"Your face is glowing." Robert frowned as he stared up at her. "Why is your face glowing?"

The first thing said after seeing her alive again. Good grief. She should have had Anderson pick him up instead of coming herself.

"You should have seen me before I stopped thinking I was a Dr. Frankenstein reject."

"You stopped thinking it?"

_Of course not._

"I'm going to charge you into a cliff, man."

He pointed in the direction of her companions.

"Your squad's staring."

"Because if they comment I'll have Joker dropping them off in some unknown planet."

"Isn't that abuse of power?"

"I'm not sure why you think I'd care."

Jane's hand clamped on his uninjured shoulder, feeling a little less a science project when she felt the living flesh underneath her fingers.

"Let's get you out of here."


	76. Apologizes the Broker

_**76**  ) Liara T'Soni, archeologist, information broker._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Liara, wait!"

_I'm sorry I brought you back. I didn't want you to disappear like you were nothing. I wanted my friend back. Is that bad? Why didn't I bring mother back? Because Shepard was needed? Because Shepard didn't have the chance or the need to rest? Wasn't it enough?_

"Stop! Damnit, Liara!"

Liara's eyes stung as they never had since her mother fell in front of her.

A flash of blue covered her line of sight. Liara didn't have the time to react. One second she was running, on the next she was on the floor, staring up at the brunette with a confused expression which would have been comical in any other moment.

Shepard, on the other hand, looked angry.

"Enough. I've been running after you since this morning and I'm done. You'll let me know what the hell the problem is or I'm calling the Normandy and dropping us half way across the galaxy."

_I'm so sorry._

"Nothi—"

"I'm going to punch you." The blue glow grew. "I'm not a genius but I'm clearly not stupid. Tell me the truth."

It wasn't a request. It was a command.

"Later?"

Shepard grunted.

"Fine. Let's get your friend."


	77. Warns the Justicar

_**77**  ) Samara, Justicar._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"I might have to kill you some day, Shepard. Most of your orders are correct but some simply stray too much into what you need to battle."

Mercenary bodies littered the floor. In her black and white code, the Justicar knew Shepard had been right. Those criminals needed to be wiped out from existence; no second thoughts, no mercy. For her, it was second nature. For the Commander, it didn't seem less so and that worried her.

Shepard shook her armored hands as an afterthought, grimacing as she noticed the mess she had made of her shotgun. Samara couldn't help but notice that a lot of the grime covering the weapon as of organic origin. Unlike her, Shepard fought on the frontlines more often than not.

Wasn't it hypocritical of her though? They were both doing the right thing according to the Code.

"That's fine."

The Asari was startled out of her reverie.

"You would not mind dying by my hand?"

Shepard smiled, clipping the shotgun back in its harness.

"I don't mind you attacking me. I just don't plan on dying," she replied. "You wouldn't believe how disappointed Wrex would be if I was done in by an Asari."


	78. Likes the AI

_**78**  ) EDI_ _(Enhanced Defense Intelligence), Artificial Intelligence from the Normandy SR-2_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Ben and Jerry in the fridge," Mr. Moreau informed as soon as Shepard arrived. After a quick search, EDI discovered a caloric snack, adequate for an active biotic.

"You're a genius, Joker."

"You're in love with me now?"

Human emotions were constantly varying coefficients which no algorithm could predict. EDI didn't expect Shepard's laughter.

"As if. I like my guys less than 95% ass."

"I'm 94%."

"EDI?"

"99%." Pause. "That w—"

"We know," the Commander said (fondly?). "I'll get ice cream now. Joker?"

"Chocolate, splurge on the toppings."

Shepard left, followed by EDI's cameras. There was more to this, its 'instinct' said (auxiliary systems curved to fit Shepard's erratic behavior). It followed her path, watching the interruption by a – _facial analysis reveals eleven active muscles_ – worried Chawkas, before reaching her destination.

EDI was 'curious'.

"You poured oil over my central processor, Commander." Shepard looked at the nearest camera. "Why?"

"No oil-flavored ice cream."

Algorithms glitched irreparably.

"Stop confusing the AI, Commander, and get me sugar," Mr. Moreau griped over the comm.

Humans were perplexing creatures. EDI watched the duo, 'hearing' attentively, intervening when called upon. Shepard's expression used twelve muscles instead of eleven the entire time.

EDI liked it.


	79. Learns the Legion

**_79)_ ** _Geth, Inorganic lifeform._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Shepard-Commander. Human. Only human in contact with Protean technology. Fighter. Dead. Alive.

Sovereign. God. Inorganic. Perfect. Destroyed.

The Reapers. Old Gods. Perfect. Destruction incarnate.

Do we help her? Do we need Gods? Should we take part in this war? Should we go to war? Should we kill our Creators? Should we save those Sovereign took?

_Consensus not achieved._

Was this _feeling_ what it meant to be alive? To wonder whether or not the steps given were the correct? Was this to have a soul? To not know what to do or where to go and fear every time a wrong shift in the board would send them tumbling down?

_Consensus not achieved._

This particular platform didn't have any more answers than its brethren. It followed the human into the human construction, watching carefully its every step, every breath, every destroyed chink of armor. She didn't seem to have any more answers than either of them and yet, she never wondered. Only did what had to be done instead.

"We are Legion. A terminal of the Geth."

Countless eyes looked through his, countless processes, countless beings all wondering with the same voice.

_Teach us, Commander._

_Show us the meaning of heresy._


	80. Argues the Ally

**_80)_ ** _Tali'zorah Vas Normandy, Chief Engineer of the Normandy SR2.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Tali'zorah and Jane had never argued before. They were good friends, good colleagues. There was no reason to fight.

"You are keeping the Geth in this ship, Jane. The Geth! After what you've seen in my father's ship!"

"Your father was dismantling their people and testing them like they were nothing. I'm not going to lose my time discussing just how wrong that was."

"They're machines!"

"So are we. Machines of cells and blood and bones. I'm halfway into being them." Jane's hands reached to hold hers, locking her eyes with the glass visor because it seemed impossible for her to find Tali's eyes. "We're friends, you and I. You need to believe I won't ever do anything to harm you. You need to trust me that, when this is done, I'll do my best to bring you home." The Commander allowed herself to make a pause, her hands shaking her shoulders lightly. "Now, can you please stop planning to blow up the Geth in my ship?"

"How do you know?"

"You asked EDI for schematics, who is the biggest AI gossip ever. You like blowing up geth. The right question is who doesn't know."

The right answer was Legion.


	81. Decides the Second

**_81)_ ** _Miranda Lawson, Leading Operative of the Lazarus Cell and Executive officer of the SSV Normandy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Shepard had seventeen visible scars before death, the largest running from shoulder to hip and the result of a falling building which had nearly broken her in half. She had grey in her black hair, a smudge of green in her brown eyes, traces of a tan in course skin. Seventy-four percent of Shepard's body had been burned when she died, her lungs collapsed into nothing and her brain only preserved by a half-crushed helmet.

Miranda possessed a medical file with all these details, one by the name of Lazarus. It told her everything she wanted to know, everything Miranda had needed to bring that woman back from the dead.

For a supposedly perfect creation, she had been an idiot.

Shepard was stubborn and loyal. She was a family woman and Anderson held her loyalty beyond anyone else. She liked toys, rowdy jokes and physical contact. There was grey appearing in black and new scars and green still persisted in brown. They also didn't agree all the time as Shepard was brashness and bluntness and Miranda was gracefulness and precision.

They were friends.

Miranda looked at the chip resting on her hand and, with deliberate slowness, crushed it into nothing.


	82. Orders the Head

**_82)_ ** _Urdnot W_ _rex, Leader of Clan Urdnot of Tuchanka and Urdnot Grunt, Soldier._ _  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Have you tried not killing everything you see?"

The Commander was a Krogan. She walked through Tuchanka as if born in it, exchanged insults with all the delicacy of a truck inside a china shop and grinned whenever a challenge was presented.

"Yes. It was boring." She was also able to make Wrex laugh, loud laughter which was real and benevolent. They were friends, comrades, blood siblings of different races and creeds. Others would worry, would wonder what was going on through the woman's mind. Wrex would grab his shotgun and ask what she wanted him to shoot. "Since when do you believe in diplomacy?"

"Since the female clans. I can't kill those."

"You're not whipped at all, Wrex."

In his eyes, Shepard was Krogan. In Grunt's eyes, she was the woman who brought him out of the tank, clear thoughts and true tongue. She gave him the best fights.

"Follow her, pup," the Elder told him once they were left alone. "Keep to her back 'cause they'll find a way to kill her again. Know before they try."

The look exchanged between males was nothing less than savage.

"Don't forget to call her mom and send me her reaction."


	83. Changes the Guide

**_83)_ ** _Zaeed Massani, mercenary._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Shepard looked as she always had. There were no traces of wrinkles, no white in her hair and she still had that half-smile in battle that he had complained about so long before. Also, she was fucking alive and since when? He'd been in her funeral, seen her kid sister seething with the same anger he had associated with the biotic.

"I know," Jane declared, interrupting his train of thought. "I'm still pretty. Next time you get shot, Miranda can fix you up. Talking about that, since when do you look like a dog's chew toy?"

She stared at him, unfamiliar, measuring and even worried. For him or about him? It didn't matter. Things changed, girl, the world kept spinning.

"I almost died. What the hell happened to you, Shepard?"

"I actually died."

_Bullshit._

"You look fucking alive to me."

"People found my disposable parts and combined with care."

The brunette behind her sighed exasperatedly.

Yeah, he got you, woman. Shepard did that to everyone. But the flippancy she used on those words didn't feel right.

"Let's just get whatever you want dead."

Guess he hadn't been the only one to change.

Jane saluted.

"Yes, sir."

Not nearly enough though.


	84. Notices the Senior

**_84)_ ** _Karin Chakwas, Medical Doctor of the Normandy SR2, temporary leave of absense from the Earth Systems Alliance._ _  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

It wasn't like she was snooping. Jane would come by to talk, to smile that little grin which showed she was trying to leave her trauma behind. After, the Commander would always find her way into the Battery and Karin's eyes would follow.

She should warn them.

What could she say though? Don't hurt her? It would happen. Not because he didn't like her but because it was part of life.

She'll hurt you? It had happened and would again. Jane walked constantly into fire and, when stressed, her emotional range equaled that of a particularly eloquent brick. But when they returned, half of Shepard's wounds would be for trying to keep all away from her squad.

What could Karin say that would help?

Eventually Jane exited the battery. She was smiling.

"You're grinning, Commander," Karin mouthed through the glass.

Jane's smile only widened. "It's an illusion, doctor. Don't destroy my reputation."

"What reputation's that?" Bellowed Garrus from his corner. "The one you get from tripping into a Collector?"

"That was just once, you prissy lizard. At least _I_ didn't make out with a wall."

Nothing. They'd find their way.

God above, how everyone would notice this before they did.


	85. Commands the Admiral

**_85)_ ** _Steven Hackett_ _, Admiral of the Earth Systems Alliance and Commander of the Fifth Fleet._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Crimes of war happened. That was a horrifying sentence to be spoken, especially from a military man and yet, the truth remained, blunt and unchanging.

Shepard sat in the infirmary bed as if she wasn't looking at him, eyes lost on the closed door and mind reflecting on a nightmare.

"I could hear it. The Artifact. It was yelling in my head. I couldn't hear me think, no matter how much I tried it. It's like nails on a chalkboard. You cringe and step back without thinking, you cover your ears and you still have that feeling on your spine."

Fear clogged her voice.

"I thought I'd have the time to help them, all if I could destroy that thing. I thought I was doing the right thing."

Was it the right thing? Of course not. Billions of millions had died.

"Stop thinking," he ordered. "It's over and done with and you'll face the music when the time comes. Until then, the fight's half way."

It was the necessary one and that made all the difference.

Hackett waited until Shepard raised her head and nodded in acceptance. And another moment until the Admiral believed she'd do it.

It was necessary.


	86. Fools the Kid

**_86)_ ** _Urdnot Grunt_ _, Soldier and crew member of the SSV Normandy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The discussion had started once the Commander walked into the bowels of the ship and discovered her once pristine hangar was free of its usual contents and replaced with a wrestling ring. There was no denying she was battling a serious migraine and the urge to throttle her ragtag team of idiots.

"It's already done."

"It's a ring where my Mako's supposed to be, Grunt."

"What's the harm?"

"Beyond I can't fly a fighting pit into a planet?"

"You can't fly the Mako except into a mountain, mom."

"I can so drive it properly! You aren't making your case any better."

"Not trying. This is useful and temporary."

"This is just _slightly_ better than the time when you destr—" His words hit and the unflappable Commander Jane Shepard froze, staring at the being in front of her like he was insane. Or sick. Sickly insane.

" _What_?" He grumbled.

"Nothing," Jane narrowed her eyes, sensing the obvious ploy from a mile away. "Clean up after and you guys can play. Don't kill anyone." With that tirade, she ignored everyone and turned to the elevator, carefully avoiding stupidly confused gazes.

Grunt grinned and palmed his shotgun in case anyone tried commenting.

* * *

_Author's note: This chapter should be called 'How to throw your Battlemaster off-guard without her biting your head off'._


	87. Brawls the Convict

**_87)_ ** _Jack, 'vulgo' Subject Zero_ _, crew member of the SSV Normandy._

**xxxXXXxxx**

In retrospect, getting drunk had been pretty stupid. Getting into a brawl with two biotics was thoughtless of everyone else.

"Oy, Shepard. Why are we fighting anyway?" Jack asked once the fight slowed to a crawl.

Jane's foot stepped carefully onto someone's stomach. "I'm pretty sure that one called me a xenophile tramp."

"Did you care?"

"I was bored."

The two weren't opposites. They were both sledgehammers, believing problems existed to be pummeled. And Jack hated her. It was easy to. Shepard's files held Batarian attacks, orphanages and a bloody military track a mile long but when Jack looked at her, she couldn't see the girl murderer, the lieutenant making her last stand or the corpse.

"That one's getting his friends."

"Thirty minutes to go." Shepard checked her watch. "If he's fast, we'll get some punches in."

The question burned Jack's throat.

"Why escape your leash for this?"

The glass closest to the woman was downed with barely a look to its contents.

"Anniversary of Mindoir." Shepard's lips twisted into an unfamiliar smile. "Anderson forbade me to celebrate with explosions."

 _Girl Scout_. "Why me?"

"You get it."

Pragia. She got it.

Jack hated Jane. She also kind of liked her.


	88. Bets the Bionic

**_88)_ ** _J_ _acob Taylor_ _,_ _operative of the Lazarus Cell and_ _crew member of the Normandy-SR2._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"You sure you want to do this?"

Jacob nodded firmly. "First one to get back with the greatest number of artefacts wins. In or not?"

An eyebrow rose slowly. "I could accuse you of not taking your own job seriously."

"Never knew you'd be the one to back out of a challenge, Shepard."

"Never did. Fine. I'm in. First one back."

He should have known better.

"Three. Two." Shepard's mouth slipped into a smile. "Samara, if you would?"

There was a flash of light as the Asari raised her hand, effectively trapping him in his place. Laughing out loud, the rest of the biotics moved as one, pairing off with the rest of the group and invaded the base. Jane didn't look back to see Jacob cursing her name for all it was worth. It was far better to focus on retrieving the items and not getting shot.

He stayed in the same spot for thirty minutes before his colleagues made their way back. And right at front of the group was the very person he wished to punch.

"You cheated!"

"Of course I did," she said simply. "That's why I'm the Commander and you're the gunnery chief. Pay up."


	89. Pretends the Boss

**_89)_ ** _Jane Shepard_ _,_ _Special Tactics and Reconnaissance and Commander of the Normandy SR-2_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

These people weren't Cerberus anymore. Tim could talk all his big talks and pretend all he wanted but the second he had given them to her, they became _her_ people. The heart, mind and blood of the Normandy given human form.

"Miranda, stop shouting." _He's mine. So are you and you're not hurting him_. "I'm not sure how he's to blame for what the Collectors are doing all over the galaxy. Warn everyone to get ready. Joker, get us to the Omega 4 relay. We're going immediately."

 _You're mine and they're mine and hell if I'm allowing anyone else to be taken_ , she willed him to understand even as he stumbled drunkenly out the doors.

"Shepard?" Miranda whispered behind her. "What if we're not on time?"

What if they were experimented on and used and discarded? Even experiments took their sweet time. They would take their time, confident she would never follow, and she would use that. That would be her hope.

_Swallow. Breathe. Keep it up._

"No what ifs necessary. We'll get them."

 _Make them believe_ , Anderson had told her that countless times, _if you pretend hard enough, they won't doubt and follow_.

If they believed, she would too.


	90. Understands the Flier

**_90)_ ** _J_ _eff Moreau, Pilot of Normandy-SR2._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"I know it wasn't my fault," Joker told his Commander as soon as her feet crossed into his cockpit.

For a moment, Shepard's hesitation was palpable. "Yeah. But take it from me. Being a survivor can hurt like hell."

"I know."

That earned him a sharp look followed by a quirk of her lips that could be almost a smile. At least she had yet to comment that dying in vacuum hurt a hell of a lot more, not that it made him feel like any less of asshole.

"We're getting them back, Joker."

Her hand clamped on his shoulder, just shy of painful.

"That's a platitude, Commander," the pilot whispered. "Don't use those with me."

"It's a promise, Joker. I always fulfill those."

"Except when I get you killed."

"If I get an impulsive urge to save your life instead of my own skin, I'll do my very best to ignore it."

"Just go make out with Garrus, Shepard."

She rolled her eyes and walked away, making sure to show him exactly two fingers on the way out.

"Hey, Shepard?" The Commander stopped. He grinned. "Pop the heat sink?"

"Get a life, Joker."

"But yours is so much more interesting."

It took him a few moments to notice he had stopped shaking.


	91. Chats the Family

**_91)_ ** _Jane and Marie Shepard._

**xxxXXXxxx**

_J: Don't bother to check under your bed tonight, Kitten. I'm on it._

_M: You're about to do something stupid again, aren't you?_

_J:_ _Define stupid._

_M:_ _Chances of death above 90%, without support bar the Normandy._

_J:_ _In my defense, the Normandy is pretty damned awesome._

_M:_ _Jane!_

_J:_ _Marie!_

_M:_ _You're an idiot. How bad will it be?_

_J:_ _Not sure. Our crew suffered a setback and I need to get them back before something very bad happens. If we don't go now, stuff happens._

_M:_ _Then should you be talking to me? Shouldn't you be off commanding or whatever you do to get a proper paycheck?_

_J:_ _Wanted to let you know stuff was going down before actually being useful. Hey, talking about that! You need to reach the Alliance. I'm pretty sure being dead is medical leave in some manner, somewhere in the galaxy. I have two years of paychecks to receive._

_M:_ _Sometimes I wonder why people brought you back, sis._

_J:_ _It's a mystery to me. See you when I get back?_

_M:_ _You better. I'm going after you if you don't come back this time._

_J:_ _And if that's not scary._

_M:_ _This is when you stop joking._

_J:_ _Love you, Kitten._

_M:_ _Love you, Janie._ _Hit them hard for me._


	92. Loves the Sniper

**_92)_ ** _Garrus Vakarian,_ _Ex-C-Sec officer, vigilante and crew-member of the Normandy SR-2_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

It was a mistake, a huge, awkward mistake (that he might do all over again) and when she woke up, she'd kick him out (which he would do immediately before finding something evil to empty his weapon on) and they would never be friends again.

He tugged her closer (because he was selfish and that was fine). It wasn't that he thought (feared) she was going to throw him out; he was just cold.

"Hurts," she grumbled. Garrus pushed back immediately only to have her following, rearranging her body into a position where no spiky parts of his body dug into her flesh, and snored onto his chest. It was oddly human. "Stay."

(Only because she insisted).

They had two hours. It hit him that this would be their kind of life. Neither would stop fighting, neither would even think to run or hide. That was frightening. Losing her once had been bad enough; for it to happen again… Grinding his teeth, he forced that thought out of his mind.

"I love you."

He had to wait one minute to hear the mumbled response.

"Put the pasta in the washing machine, Garrus."

Well. At least she was dreaming about him.


	93. Hears the Extra

**_93)_ ** _J_ _eff Moreau, Pilot of Normandy-SR2 and assorted squad members._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Are you scared?"

"Of Collectors? They can't exactly collect us. We're bursting right through their fucking front door."

"I think she means dying, old man."

"Been there, done that."

"Not everyone has me to bring you back, Commander."

"And no one would _want_ to bring you back, Barbie."

"You really can't stop yourself from speaking idiocies, can you, mistake?"

"Jack. Miranda. Can we not do a rerun of your every conversation ever before a life or dead thing? I'd rather watch Jacob do sit ups for the rest of eternity."

"I feel offended."

"Good for you. I'm not sure I should feel jealous."

"I'm glad we're focused on what's important, guys."

Joker sighed onto the ceiling. It was on moments like this that the pilot wasn't entirely sure how they managed to get themselves out of so many troubles without leaving body parts behind. The radio pinged softly in his ear one more time.

"Watch our backs, Joker." It was like Shepard was sitting by his side again, her gun close by and a hand on his shoulder. "I plan on getting back home this time."

Guess he'd have to make sure they didn't get lost or anything.

"Always, Commander."


	94. Sees the Mortal

**_94)_ ** _Jane Shepard_ _,_ _Special Tactics and Reconnaissance and Commander of the Normandy SR-2_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

They acted like a swarm. No thought, just purpose. No purpose, just the will of their masters. They were weapons, sharp blades and carefully constructed robots. No music, no care, no culture, no souls, no love. They were nothing but an it, an object on the hands of beings which had long since outgrown mercy. If they hadn't, their weapons would have been allowed to die. It was enough to break her heart even one which often lacked sympathy for whoever was on the other side of her scope. It was enough to make her want to throw up.

 _You will be ours. You will be us_ , Jane heard those words behind every blast of a weapon, felt it coursing through her path with every missed attack. _I know this hurts you._

The human reaper screamed in her mind, a thousand silent voices who keep ripping into the warfare like church bells.

"Shepard," yelled Miranda's disturbed voice – _oh dear God,_ Miranda, _was disturbed._ "What can we do?"

_Please, let us end._

Jane, sickened and horrified, listened.

"Take them down. Take them all down. We're burning this place to the ground." And heavens helped her but the Reapers had to follow.


	95. Rages the Villain

**_95)_ ** _The Illusive Man, leader of Cerberus_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

How couldn't Shepard see they needed this base? How couldn't she see the opportunity that place represented?

"I knew I shouldn't trust you," he snapped out. "You have no vision, no idea of the sacrifices needed."

"I sacrificed a whole system three weeks ago. I know what sacrifice is like."

It had been her job and then yet another job from another master. _No, girl_. _You know nothing. About putting your life on the line since there is no other choice_. _You died because of your own stupidity_.

"You sacrificed others." He couldn't see her. He could hear her voice and picture her disgusted look but he couldn't see her eyes and make her understand. "You have yet to sacrifice yourself."

"If you had bothered to tell me what you personally sacrificed in the first place, I would have been more inclined to believe you. Unfortunately you preferred to be a chessmaster, sending me back and forth without explanations." Gears kept shifting as she prepared the bomb. "You're a fucking awful leader, Timmy. Consider this my resignation letter."

The last thing he heard from the connection was a loud explosion, one that seemed to cross galaxies without leaving anything behind.


	96. Parts the Group

**_96)_ ** _Jane Shepard_ _,_ _Special Tactics and Reconnaissance and Commander of the Normandy SR-2_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

There had been hugs. Liara had dropped by with a promise of escape when needed. Samara had smiled, which likely meant she wasn't about to kill her. Miranda, Jack and Zaaed had separately described how much of an idiot she was. The rest slipped out when she told them too, nightmares hidden beneath the glow of victory. Garrus had merely touched his forehead to hers in a move that was as sweet as it was expected.

"I'm coming with you." Joker stood behind her with EDI's immaterial presence all around. Jane breathed in and straightened. "It was the right thing to do, Shepard."

"Not right." Hackett waited for her in front of the small group which would take her weapons and close shackles around her wrists. He wasn't smiling. "Necessary."

Jane swallowed slowly, preparing herself for the insults which were sure to follow.

Instead, she met Marie's eyes; she saw Robert and Hackett's stern countenance without accusation. Across the crowd, Anderson nodded. Even though there were more people around, those four were all she could see, all she could hear; warmth on a winter day, a shield keeping her safe and whole.

Her head was raised as she walked out.


	97. Guards the Marine

**_97)_ ** _James Vega, Lieutenant of Earth Systems Alliance Navy_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

James had seen bad cases of cabin fever. The Commander was one step below starting to strip and yell at the walls (and no, he didn't exactly hope for it; he might just not complain if it happened). At first, he had expected her to, at least, try to relax. Instead, he watched a caged animal, one step from flinging herself at the walls and shatter them into nothing.

_bumpbumpbump_

He didn't ask her where she got the tennis ball from. He wanted to kill whoever gave it to her.

"Can you please stop that?" The soldier eventually begged.

_bumpbumpbump_

"The Reapers are coming and instead of being in the Normandy, I'm sitting on my ass while my crew is out there trying not to get killed." The ball continued being thrown at the wall in regular intervals with increasing force. "I'm as useless as if I was really in prison with shackles on my wrists. So excuse me if I'm being immature and playing hit the fucking wall."

_bumpbumpsplat_

The ball, which had been glowing blue for the past five minutes, went against the wall one final time and imbedded itself in the plaster.

Jane cursed.

James thanked God.


	98. Dreads the Suitor

**_98)_ ** _Kaidan Alenko, Major of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

He had loved that person.

Shepard was kind and funny, had an odd sense of humor and was strangely captivating. She carried mysteries which she didn't bother to explain and a single-track mind which should have made her easier to understand. She had been dead. She had been Cerberus. She was a killer.

Kaidan wasn't sure but he analyzed whatever was in his heart and it didn't seem love.

He loved the woman with her righteous path in life. He loved the girl who had sat near as he unraveled his past.

"I did what I had to do."

This woman wasn't her. Her expression didn't have a hint of a smile; her eyes were as hard as flint and twice as emotionless. And even though she was cursed, even though people looked at her with disgust and wonder how far she would go, what she would have done if it had been the Earth on the other side, the Commander remained standing at attention, shaking ever so lightly in her place. Like a statue or a Goddess who cared little about the lives of those beneath her.

Kaidan wasn't sure but he felt he should be afraid of her.


	99. Plays the Child

**99)** _Thomas Silverstone, civilian._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"This one is Europe and yours is Belgrade. And _you_ can be the evil Emperor about to conquer the universe and I'm…"

"Luke Skywalker."

He stared. "No. My name's Tom. So the hero's named Tom."

"Silly me. Who am I again?"

"Shouldn't you know that? Make the sounds."

"Sir, yes, sir."

The woman obeyed, moving his ship through the air, mimicking the lasers more or less fine. Tom didn't know where she had come from. Maybe he should have called someone to send her away but she _was_ okay at sounds.

"Shepard. We should go."

There was a soldier behind her. Even if she was bad, he'd keep him safe.

"Are you two dating or something?" Tom asked instead.

"No, he's walking me," she declared blandly. "I'd gnaw on the furniture otherwise."

The man gave her a look. It was an expressive one.

"Here, kid." The spacecraft was placed on his hands before she patted her clothes. "Coming, owner. You know, you're free to get me a leash."

"Anderson would kill me."

"That might be the whole point of the exercise."

"Hey, lady?"

Both stopped.

"I'll be here tomorrow."

She snapped into a salute. Very real too.

"Sir, yes, sir."


	100. Abandons the Wounded

**_100)_ ** _Anthony Clemmons_ _, sergeant of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The idea of giant creatures coming from out of the darkness like what his ancestors would think when looking out to the sky at night was ridiculous. It was obviously a sham to hide away her countless crimes. Only, he could look up the skies and see the creatures Shepard had been describing for months and see them slowly descend, killing everything in their path. It was pathetic how easily they did so. Like a hot knife through butter.

"Get me out."

The Commander's eyes met his and he noticed vaguely her hands tightening around the small pistol she carried. Instead, of reaching for him though, she just patted his shoulder before standing. "Wait here. We'll get you guys a way out."

"No. No. Get me out. Please get me out."

God above, he felt like crying and not solely due to the pain ripping his limbs apart. Why couldn't she save him? He wanted to live. He had people to come back to.

"Please."

His hand clawed at her armor.

_Don't._

_Don't leave me to die._

"I'm sorry. I'll call someone to help you."

On that moment, he saw the woman who had destroyed a system.

And hated her.


	101. Protects the Dad

**_101)_ ** _David Anderson_ _, Admiral of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"There's the Normandy!" Shepard ran even faster before he could look properly at the ship and the happiness in her expression was of a woman coming home. He had half expected this once upon a time. As he brought her into a place she had been searching for what seemed forever.

Jane didn't hesitate as she jumped into the cargo hold, twisting in her place to look for him.

He stopped, making no effort to follow her.

"What are you doing, Anderson! Get on!"

Jane's gaze, pleading and worried, was heartbreaking. He wished he could go; fight again side by side like when he was first showing her the ropes. But not this time. This time they had parallel paths to walk and he wouldn't be able to keep an eye on her. He had a whole world to salvage.

So David said goodbye, watched her for a final time and felt sorry he wouldn't be able to do so for a while. He held onto her image and drew it carefully across his memory before sending her where she'd be safer.

"Talk to the council. Don't come back without reinforcements."

Because what father wouldn't try to protect his child?


	102. Straightens the Chain

**_102)_ ** _Kaidan Alenko, Major of the Earth Systems Alliance Navy_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

That was no training, they were no recruits and neither was playing. Biotic energy cackled with each vicious punch, forcing him to react to every move as if he was right in the middle of a battleground. Anything less and he'd die. Jane didn't fight fair. In fact, the word fair wasn't in the vicinity of whatever she was doing.

The Commander fought like a wrong movement would get her killed, like he'd shoot her the second she showed any fragility. Like someone about to die and he was threatening to do it. Was it any wonder that soon enough he found himself on the floor, dazed with her hand around his throat?

"Never threaten me," Jane yelled, pausing to spit the blood filling her mouth onto the floor, dark eyes narrowed in a vicious gaze. "Never call me a murderer. Do either and I will leave you behind for the Reapers to find! _Do you fucking understand me, soldier?_ " He didn't move, barely breathed.

Shepard disappeared from his eyesight, fading in and out of his consciousness as if he didn't matter. He was just a bump in her path.

Vega replaced her.

"I'm missing one hell of a story, huh?"

* * *

_**Author's note** – this is how you set up authority in a ship, apparently. Screw ranks, says Shepard._


	103. Stares the Newcomer

**_103)_ ** _James Vega, Lieutenant of Earth Systems Alliance Navy_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

He'd swear it had been one moment. The asari fell from the vent, exchanged look with the Commander, a single breath punctuated by smiles and a nod. Sadly, James didn't know Shepard enough to be aware she was about to do something terribly stupid in some spectacular fashion. Why he missed how Alenko crouched behind a bunch of crates.

"Out of the way!"

The Asari threw a singularity behind her, capturing effortlessly the two soldiers dumb enough to follow her. Shepard blew past a second after, charging into the biotic field with abandon in her stance, uncaring of the explosion she heralded or the fact that she found herself blasted against the floor by the end of it. Groaning, the Commander pushed herself into a sitting position. "Most people say good night or evening," she commented. "Not try to explode their best friends."

"Who said you're my best friend?"

"Doesn't need to be said."

Their pistols rose in tandem and shot both Cerberus soldiers, one each.

James swallowed. "That was damned scary." Damned sexy too.

The women ignored him before hugging tightly, trying to cram past months in a single moment.

He was sure he could die happy right then.


	104. Analyzes the Cerberus

**_104)_ ** _John_ _McKendry_ _, Soldier, Cerberus_

**xxxXXXxxx**

_She's wrong. Look at her, fighting with those abominations._

That was against everything Cerberus defended. Humanity had to walk by itself. It was on the pamphlets. Be stronger than all of them, be independent, be able to reach towards the starts without using anyone as a crutch.

The man had seen Shepard fighting before, countless hours preparing for this confrontation. If there was one thing the Commander knew how to use to her advantage was the hesitation of her enemies. That's why he didn't hesitate. He knew what he had to do. He had to protect his people, to save those who were important.

Why couldn't these people understand that? He'd expect it from the alien, Asari were so far from humans than any compassion towards their kind was unexpected, but not from the three humans. They knew the risks. They've been out there. The Reapers were coming; they couldn't trust the others!

The last thing he saw was his helmet being pulled aside and the woman cursing through her thoughts kneeling down in front of his eyes.

"Poor bastard. What the hell did they do to him?"

What was needed.

 _You are wrong_ , he thought viciously, _and we'll win_.


	105. Shelters the Computer

**_105)_ ** _EDI_ _(Enhanced Defense Intelligence), Artificial Intelligence from the Normandy SR-2_

**xxxXXXxxx**

It closed the ramp as soon as Jane was alone, like a mother closing her arms around her child. It wasn't the same as that, it didn't feel the same, she was sure. If anything, Jane was its mother, the one who had been guiding it for a while now. All in all though, EDI was keeping her safe. It was her main task, aside from keeping Jeff safe.

Jane sat on the floor, back against the wall and closed her eyes.

"Are you okay, Shepard?"

Corporal readings showed a couple of distressing symptoms. Heart rate above normal, slight low sugar level, variation of temperature consisting with sickness. Dust and blood clung to her form like parasites.

"It was a long day."

There were no wounds though and that was good.

"EDI?" The Commander eventually asked. "Where is everyone?"

"On debrief, Shepard. Everything is being taken care of. Don't concern yourself."

She made a small sound which could vaguely be considered as an okay.

EDI lowered the lights of the cargo hold and closed all communications. It would give her this moment of calm. Besides, no use letting her hear those outside yelling at the AI to unlock the doors.


	106. Overhears the Assistant

_**106)** Thanaia Rent'i, Personal Assistant_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Are you alright?"

"I'm positively ready to shoot the Council _again_ and I'm baffled I'm not feeling like sending Udina out the nearest balcony," Shepard said pleasantly. "Do you think someone slipped in anti-depressants in his coffee? He sounds terribly agreeable."

All her words were spoken with a candid smile. It was frankly weirding her out, especially since the rest of the squad was attempting to find the corner of the elevator which was farthest away from the Commander.

The smile didn't make things any better.

"I'm mad," she continued. "I'm angry, worried and ready to run to Earth the second I get back to the ship. But what can I do alone? What can one army do? They know this, Liara." The Commander leaned against the wall. "They need us even if they lie and scream otherwise. And I'll have them crawl my way this time instead of running around doing their bidding."

Her eyes slipped from her friend directly at her and that smile, oh that smile. It turned bright, twice as friendlier as before.

She had an urge to run.

"Feel free to tell the Madam Councilor everything I've said," Shepard declared. "It's her time to crawl."


	107. Rests the Partner

**_107)_ ** _Garrus Vakarian,_ _Ex-C-Sec officer, vigilante and crew-member of the Normandy SR-2_ _._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Garrus had been focused on surviving for what seemed days (even though his watch persisted in telling it had been seventy-three hours). He was tired, thirsty and sleepy. Even so, he was awake enough to notice the distinctively human hair, the bright red armor she favored (all the best to draw all the attention possible) and the brown eyes which showed so much, it was impossible to choose which emotion to settle with.

"I really want to rip your armor right now."

Was that said in front of a member of the Hierarchy? And why was he smiling at the completely moronic comment?

"Shepard! Inside voice!"

"I already told you, Liara. This is natural."

"And I already told _you_. Any sexual act of yours, I don't want to know about. My mother was more discreet!"

So he had no idea what was going on with his family, his planet was being broken into rubble and his sanity was soon following. His arms slipped around Jane though and he breathed the acrid scent of blood, sweat and tainted flesh she was permeated with.

"I'll fix it." Her hand entwined with his, cheek to cheek. "Promise."

It was impossible not to believe.


	108. Hopes the Shaman

**_108)_ ** _Urdnot Bakara vulgo 'Eve'_ _, Shaman_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"I can't have kids." Eve's head turned a little in almost sorrow, comprehension behind the alien eyes and her pain was almost palpable. "It's not like that," Jane clarified before the misunderstanding could settle. "My companion is a turian. Even if I could slip a child somewhere, genetics wouldn't help. Besides, it's not like either of us is the settling down type. Too much stuff trying to kill us."

And to be a mom? How could she teach a kid if she couldn't convince people a robotic alien race was out to get them?

"Never say never, Commander. Things happen when we expect them least." Eve's hands touched her own belly, a light touch as if caressing that which she could now harbor. Underneath the mask, Shepard was sure the Krogan was smiling and those eyes were so loving. Like the mother that lived in her memories. It was odd that the strongest person she had ever seen in her life lived her life longing and fighting for peace without weapons.

It felt more honest than she with her shotgun and biotics.

"Hope, Commander," she declared and her certainty didn't waver. "Never forget to hope. It will keep us going."


	109. Affirms the Salarian

**_109)_ ** _Mordin Solus_ _,_ _geneticist, professor and former operative of the Salarian Special Tasks Group (STG)._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The vision which greeted Mordin as he entered the infirmary was of his Commander, sitting down, staring at the bloody mass which was somehow her arm.

The needle was taken from her hands silently.

"About the Krogan incident."

The needle dove in, dove out and the string brought skin together.

"The one where you told me I was naïve and idealistic? And that I was an uncultured buffoon when I stepped on that datapad."

"All applies."

"Always sweetness and kindness, Mordin." She watched absently while he continued the curative, like it was something she dealt with constantly. "You want to say something."

"Obviously."

"Out with it, doctor. I never knew you to be afraid of speaking."

Afraid! The nerve! He had never been afra— Playing him, was she? Shepard smiled, uncaring of the stitches being tugged into her skin.

"I was wrong. About the Krogan."

Her mouth fell open.

"What was that again?"

"I wa—"

"Eve, an Omnitool! Where's mine? Do you know how many times this happens? _Never!_ Garrus is going to flip!"

Mordin rubbed his forehead. Maybe when she came down from her high, she'd notice he hadn't finished stitching her.

Maybe she'd notice the hanging needle.

* * *

_Author's note – seriously, would Shepard ever pass a glowing opportunity to be right for once?_


	110. Cares the Equal

_**110)** Liara T'Soni, archeologist, information broker and XO of the Normandy SR-2_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"You need to stop, Jane."

"We don't have the tim—"

Liara's hands held her shoulders and forced the Commander to face her all-knowing eyes. Sometimes, the Asari's age was just impossible to ignore. "You," she underlined slowly. "Need to stop. We cannot burnout, neither you nor I. You need to stop or else you'll kill yourself before this is done." Some would be afraid to say such a thing. Some would think that this meant she'd be free to do such a thing once the war was over and done with. Those would be idiots. Liara knew her friend and Jane, once dead and twice born, loved to live and fight, so much that it was like fire running through her veins. "Stop. Go talk to the doctor. Spend some time with Garrus. Call your sister. Just stop."

Jane, fearless Jane, unstoppable Jane, looked elsewhere but her for a long time.

"I'm not sure how."

It was a confession drenched in invisible tears.

Liara lowered her hold to Jane's hands, weathered fingers holding carefully as if the soldier would break underneath her strength.

"I won't let you do anything stupid to yourself." The smallest smile appeared. "Let me help."


	111. Yells the Teacher

**_111)_ ** _Jane Shepard, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance and Commander of the Normandy SR-2._

**xxxXXXxxx**

After a long day running killing Cerberus troopers, Jane expected to have a couple of minutes of mind-blowing boredom. Of course, that wasn't what happened once she entered her home. Instead, she was presented with two of her squadmates trying to kill each other.

"Kaidan! What the hell? That's EDI!"

She could just hear everyone else in the ship snooping in for entertainment.

"That's EDI?"

"Yes! Can you breathe and stop _literally_ attacking my bloody ship?" Why would he think she would be stupid enough to have his would-be assassin wandering around. "EDI. How's your platform?"

Because the huge dent on the wall where the synthetic had been thrown against was too obvious. Goddamnit, Kaidan was going to clean the bathrooms with a toothbrush for this.

EDI's body rose from the floor and, rather humanly, patted itself clean. "I'm fine, Shepard."

"I told you to ease him into the idea gently. Not drop from the ceiling, EDI."

"Sorry, Shepard."

Her squad was made up of idiots.

"Some days I think I'm a glorified babysitter," she confessed.

"At least you don't get to burp us, Shepard," came the ever helpful comment of Joker.

Jane flipped him off through the surveillance cameras.


	112. Comprehends the Judge

**_112)_ ** _Samara, Justicar._

**xxxXXXxxx**

No one understood. Justicars weren't marble, metal, stone; they were living breathing weapons, filled with blood and covered in it in equal measure. Samara learned it alone, as all Justicars did, running after her daughter; her fearless peerless daughter who had wanted more than whatever she had been given at birth. It was a hard decision and one the Justicar didn't expect anyone to comprehend.

Even when holding her daughter's body, feeling Shepard's hand on her shoulder, she had doubted anyone would.

"Would your code make you kill me now? After all I've done?"

Now, she looked at her Commander and wondered.

Thousands of millions of lives had died on the threshold simply because an open door would mean the death of ten times more individuals and that blood drowned the Commander. Sometimes her eyes would slip to her hands, seeing something the Asari didn't need to see. She was the same. So much blood whispering through the code; so many deaths keeping the balance in their galaxy. Her skin, covered in her daughter's blood because she couldn't stop her in any other way.

"Only if you dare to lose, Shepard."

Not for the first time, Samara saw a sister.


	113. Runs the Serpent

**_113) J_ ** _eff Moreau, Pilot of Normandy-SR2 and flight-lieutenant of the Earth Systems Alliance navy.  
_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Any group composed by two Krogans, a turian and a human who clearly hadn't been dished self-preservation at conception – and who kept laughing like the whole thing was _fun_ – could only work out oddly. Joker was glad no one else had a front row seat to that show because otherwise the galaxy's faith in Shepard would plummet faster than an engineless Normandy.

"Shepard, stop leaning outside the window, you're not a child! _"_

 _"_ We're playing tag with a Reaper, Liara! It _is_ childish!"

The pilot watched her run out of the truck like the whole thing was an exercise, feeling, as always, his throat tighten from fear and incapability alike. Oddly enough though, the desperation of the latest battles disappeared from Shepard's stance replaced by joy as she ran from side to side. And when it was over, Joker found his Commander at the cliff's edge, waving like a madwoman to the creature which had been trying to eat her barely minutes before.

"Thanks, Kalros! Most amazing fight _ever_."

"Please don't adopt her, Shepard."

"We got no space."

"That _shouldn't_ be your problem with the idea."

She sounded happy. Joker found himself more grateful for that than for the Reaper-killing monster.


	114. Fixes the Scientist

**_114)_ ** _Mordin Solus_ _,_ _geneticist, professor and former operative of the Salarian Special Tasks Group (STG)._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"Are you sure about this?" Shepard asked him one last time. "You've done a lot. You don't need to sacrifice yourself to make up for one mistake."

One mistake, she called it. Mordin felt like chuckling at that. Like he had been lost on the way home or not given money to a homeless. No, silly woman. This was the right thing to do.

"Sure. Very sure. Please leave, Commander."

The elevator door closed before his eyes, leaving her only the option to run and run she did. The scientist allowed himself a smile and a sigh, satisfaction running through his veins as strong as fear. In a way, she was sort of like his child too. All of those he had guided were, smart, capable, strong. Yes. They were his legacy for the galaxy when his physical presence was so short. She would remember.

Humming under his breath, he continued the dance which would lead to the end of the curse he had wrought. And, for some reason, he stopped himself from looking back to where he knew she would wait like a good Commander, right up till the very last moment.

Someone else might have gotten it wrong.


	115. Sighs the Patriarch

**_115)_ ** _Treon Vakarian, former C-Sec officer._

**xxxXXXxxx**

What did Garrus see in her? Past the hair and squishy flesh, past the bones he could break easily and foal-like round eyes. Tense posture and lips pressed together while aggression twisted and sparked around her.

"What the hell is going on here?" The Commander asked bluntly. "The whole floor is going insane with your shouting."

"Will you kill me if I hurt him?"

She frowned deeply, strong lines etched just above her eyes.

"Of course not," Shepard stated as if that was completely obvious. "That would be _easy_. I don't do things the easy way."

"She might maim you though."

"He's your dad."

It was obvious that Garrus liked her, the old cop realized. Tension slipped away from his body as soon as she came closer, subtly leaning, near enough to touch, if they wished it.

"You're armed."

"I'm always armed, babe."

Shepard made him smile. At the end of the day, what else would a father want for his child?

"She's just like you," Treon informed with a look that, at five years old, had Garrus quivering in his place. Now he grinned widely, followed closely by Shepard's more subdued smile.

"Thank you, sir."

"It's not a compliment."


	116. Suffers the Dreamer

**_116)_ ** _Jane Shepard, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance and Commander of the Normandy SR-2._

**xxxXXXxxx**

It took a while for her to make sense of what her sleeping mind had shown. Dying. She remembered dying. Her armor ripping apart as Normandy failed her, breath cut short in her throat, a sudden wish to scream as her body denied her. She was just Jane then. Not the Commander or the soldier, not even the Hero who survive her. She was just Jane and Jane was too mortal while Space was too wide. Too senseless and uncaring.

The words passed through her mind as fear rushed through her veins. All the woman could do was to turn to her companion, ripping him from pleasant dreams in order to be crushed between her arms. Garrus, her mind supplied as she tugged him to her, wishing to melt into his form. Her anchor in the middle of madness.

Above her, the open window smiled. Stars winked in the darkness, the very same that had closed itself around her years before and snuffed her light away. She closed her eyes tightly, teeth grinding together to keep both screams and nightmares at bay.

"Jane?" A hand touched her hair; gentle, almost impossible to feel. "Jane, are you okay?"

Would anyone be?

* * *

_**AN** \- I don't even know. PSTD dropping in for a visit, maybe? Odd messed up tone is odd._


	117. Suggests the Fighter

**_117)_** _Khalisah al-Jilani,_ _Westerlund News reporter_

**xxxXXXxxx**

"How long haven't you been sleeping?" The journalist stared at the woman like she had asked if the Reapers had surrendered to the Elcor. Shepard didn't seem to mind. She gripped her elbow instead and dragged her into the nearest chair. There was no pity; just a no-nonsense attitude and a gaze she had once seen in her mother.

Like she was a child.

"How long?"

Gods, she couldn't remember. Nights were passed in slight dozes, waking from dreams into nightmares.

Why did Shepard look at her like that?

Like she understood?

Like Khalisah needed to be slapped to make sure she stopped being a fool?

"That pause right there? Means it's too long. Let's get you somewhere you can swallow a dozen sleeping pills."

"But!" What if she was _needed_? What if something else happened?

"But nothing, lady. You already tried attacking me. You do it again, I'll be sure you're looking for suicide and I'd rather not lose another pair of healthy hands. You need sleep. Now."

_Now_. Was she supposed to agree right away? She wasn't a soldier!

"Or I'll just punch you," the Commander completed. "You'll get rest either way."

Maybe she'd give sleep a try…


	118. Laughs the Geth

**_118)_ ** _Legion,_ _terminal of the Geth._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"What is the first thing you'll do once you're a you, Legion?" Shepard's curiosity never changed. It flashed at the oddest moments due to the oddest reasons. This time, particularly, as they waged battle against his brethren on its ancestral grounds. "You know, when you don't have to ask everyone else in there. Hey, is every program like a cell? Just imagine the mess if every cell in my body had opinions."

"Consensus would be simple, Shepard-Commander."

"Oh?"

"They would say, physical integrity remains compromised as long as you keep bashing us into enemies."

Her laughter ran through the air even as she crushed the next opponent underneath her biotics.

"Gods, I love synthetics. They have the best sense of humor." Legion didn't need half his processes to understand she didn't mean the Reapers. It didn't need more than a tenth to read honest care behind her words.

General consensus was that that was… _odd_.

"They do?" The Turian grumbled.

"Babe, I'd totally exchange you if it was slightly cushier."

That that was _amusing_.

"Ahah?"

"It laughs at my jokes. That's it. It's the one."

"I'm dumping you, Jane."

And that they were two more processes in its vast network.


	119. Threatens the Negligent

**_119)_ ** _Juhi'Rora vas Neema, lieutenant of the Migrant Fleet._

**xxxXXXxxx**

"You put your people at risk! And worse, you almost killed _mine_ , asshole!" Someone should stop her, the lieutenant thought, keep her from the Admiral because Shepard sure as hell didn't seem ready to stop. She found herself grateful that someone had taken her weapon away prior to entry because, otherwise, Han'Gerrel would be as good as gone. "That's where you fucked up."

Her fingers tightened around Gerrel's throat. Juhi could see from her place the careful position of her hands, as if the human knew _exactly_ where to press to open the compartments. Where would air enter? Where would bacteria fester? How could she make him die slowly and in pain? A weak death, away from the battlefield he had almost killed her in. She could see her considering it in every trace of blue light coursing through her body.

"Commander, please," Shala'Raan whispered. "Not now. Not when we're this close to finish the war."

Shepard was a Captain. Who were they to interfere where her people's safety was concerned?

" _Fine_." The human biotic opened her hands, allowing the man to crumble at her feet. "But get this thing off my ship before I throw it out the airlock."


	120. Reminds the Comrade

**_120)_ ** _Tali'zorah Vas Normandy, Admiral of the Migrant Fleet and engineer of the Normandy SR-2._

**xxxXXXxxx**

Tali pushed her along to the very edge of the cliff, keeping her hand carefully closed around the biotic's wrist. Her smile was wider than Jane could imagine; not that she would be able to see it. Not yet. Give her some time, months, a few years. It was so close Tali could almost touch it.

"This is your room," she motioned with her hands. "You'll be able to get up in the middle of the night and wake me up to go watch television. You'll go to the fridge and find dextro. You'll take off your helmet and we'll breathe the same air. You'll have a place right here." She paused, staring at the Commander's bemused expression. "I promise."

Because her dream had always been to be in her homeworld with her family. Who else could claim that title but her Captain, her maskless alien sister who had defended her through everything? There was so much future to be had here and Tali wanted Jane to remember. Even in that moment, with Legion's wound newly branded in their hearts, it was still possible to wonder.

"Welcome home, Jane."

The Commander smiled freely then, eyes shining under the rising sun.


	121. Questions the Entity

_**121** ) EDI_ _(Enhanced Defense Intelligence), Artificial Intelligence from the Normandy SR-2_

**xxxXXXxxx**

EDI felt sadness as Legion faded into his comrades; like something crushed its (her) body until it felt heavy and burning. (She) _It_ wondered. Was Shepard like this? A mess of jumbled thoughts, feeling like she could cry at any moment but not being able to?

“You didn’t answer Legion’s question.”

Shepard stopped staring at the cockpit, rubbing her face in a quick gesture. Tears or tiredness, she would never confess which. “It didn’t need me to,” the Commander declared. “It knew perfectly well who it was. Amazing. Brave. Funny and insightful. Anyone who didn’t see that was fucking blind. Like Gerrel, probably.”

EDI’s eyes ( _sensors_ ) faced Shepard’s.

“… what about me?”

EDI barely had the time to notice before Jane slumped onto the floor by her chair. All the AI could see was her dark hair, feeling the warm body leaning against her and the strong fingers holding her own.

“Overlords don’t have souls,” Jane commented.

“That is a horrible joke, Commander.”

“What do you want to hear?” Those fingers tightened, fragile against her exoskeleton. “You already know who you are too.”

_Cerberus born. Normandy. Alive. Jeff’s._

“I’m your friend.”

Shepard was smiling, EDI knew.

“See? You do know.”


	122. Wounds the Youngest

**_122)_ ** _Marie Shepard, college student, pre-med, volunteer at Grissom Academy._

**XxxXXXxxx**

Marie had been staring at up the ceiling of the carrier for the past minutes, tired but unwilling to let the pain take her into unconsciousness.

“You came for me,” she declared, unsure why that was a surprise.

Jane’s expression was textbook pained amusement as she layered medigel onto her wounds. “I thought about giving you a pass but you had my biotic bitch with you. Those don’t grow on trees.”

“Professor Bitch, Shepard,” Jack corrected.

“Go patch up your kids, psycho.” The Commander grimaced when Marie’s fingers touched wounded flesh before slapping them away. “Kitten, that’s kind of open. Don’t poke open wounds.”

So matter-of-fact she was that Marie almost didn’t notice her hands shaking or the odd shine to her eyes.

“This fucking sucks,” she whispered slowly.

All amusement faded.

“Bad jokes when in pain is genetic. Good to know,” Jane commented dryly before resting her head against her shoulder.

“I’m okay, Janie.”

“You’re not supposed to be harmed, kitten. I’m the soldier here.”

Armored fingers carefully entwined with her bloodied ones.

“Please, be careful, Marie.” Her voice was almost a plea, lost against her body. “If I lose you, I won’t know why am I doing this.”

  
 **XxxXXXxxx** (extra, Grissom Academy)

“Shepard.”

The woman sat on her desk, disregarding the fact that she was interrupting another’s work and nearly crushing her beloved chips as she did so.

“Last time I checked.”

She stole one of chips and continued watching her. “I fought with your sister.”

“Give me two minutes to call security before you try to kill me.” Another chip passed through her lips before Marie could gather her beloved snack back

“With her,” she elaborated with a snort. “Not against. She’s not bad for an Alliance lapdog. Good fights. Good biotic. Worse than me but that’s to be expected.”

“Yet she’s the Commander and you’re learning math?”

The woman’s gaze froze her in place. God above, Marie could feel her strength wafting through the air, constricting the air around them like a sudden electrical storm, an atmosphere suddenly made of sulfur and acid.

“Figures you’d be like her.” She slapped abruptly her on the shoulder. “If you need anything, lemme know. Girl scout would kill me if you get harmed.”

“Dude, I’m the nurse here. People piss me off and I withhold painkillers.”

That earned her laughter, deep and sharp like ice.

“You’re not bad, Mini-Shepard.”

Jane’s friends were insane. 


	123. Stands the Last

123) _Lenia Rao'ret, private in Outpost Tykis, Asari military._

**xxxXXXxxx**

The problem with living as long as we have is simple. We tend to think we know best. My mom knew better than I, her mother knew better and her mother was even greater. It’s nothing personal, really; we are just old. All the young races feel like a passing rain when compared to the centuries we will last in this galaxy. When she came – human, blunt, a child, younger than I by a good three centuries – I shared the common opinion. I laughed. The Commander was insane. Reapers, how could someone believe in their existence out of legends? Geth were a plausible danger. Shadows from distant corners of the universe were not; nightmares were not.

And then, they came.

And then, Thessia burned.

And now, I don’t laugh anymore.

The problem with living as long as we have is simple. We believe we know better. We think we have seen everything which crosses this vast galaxy. We tend to need a wake-up call which resounds through the vastness of space before we move to act. When we move, however, we move together.

“Go, Commander! I’ll cover you.”

Now, I am awake and know better.

Now, I listen to her.


	124. Shares the Command

**124)**   _Liara T'Soni, archeologist, information broker and XO of the Normandy SR-2_

**xxxXXXxxx**

Liara never read the Commander’s messages. Jane had managed to get across quite eloquently that she did not enjoy being spied upon and Liara, information broker, _spy_ that she was did not tempt Fate or her friend’s fraying and, sometimes, agressive temper.

That changed when it was Shepard striding through her doorstep, sticking Kai Leng’s message in front of her eyes. Mocking them and mocking her. Grasping her people’s ashes and spitting on their memories.

“It was our fault,” Jane snapped. “We weren’t fast enough. It fucking happens. But it’s not fucking happening again!”

As they had run through her world, every loss felt like a limb torn from her flesh. How could they keep running? How could they keep fighting if all they would have left would be ashes and rubble? How could Jane and Garrus and Kaidan _bear_ it?

Jane didn’t offer platitudes. She had none to give.

“I’m not weak,” the human continued with an expression which, at any other time, would have scared Liara down to the very bottom of her being. “Neither are you.”

The Commander’s hand landed on her shoulder, sharp and heavy.

“Mourn later. Right now, we’re killing this son of a bitch”. 


End file.
